Castles In the Sky
by VaguelyFamiliar
Summary: Displaced nobility, archenemies, and a marriage proposal! Plus: Aurora's horrid middle name, revealed!
1. The Great Xanos Arrives

What to expect: At first, a collection of episodic stories about Xanos and his fellow students in the days before the Undrentide saga. Later, a more cohesive retelling of the events of the campaign, with a decidedly Xanoscentric tilt.

Why: I'm honestly not sure if there is anyone else in the whole wide internet who actually _likes_ Xanos, at least to the extent of desiring to read a lengthy collection of writing about him. I've certainly been frustrated in my attempts to find a single scrap of SoU fanfiction. But in case I'm not alone in my appreciation for the unrepentant narcissist, I thought I'd make my efforts available to the world at large.

Heartfelt Plea: If you like (or don't like) what you read, please let me know. The speed at which I write is greatly influenced by the reactions of others. Plus, feedback makes me happier than master Drogan with a barrel full of sour pickles.

One more thing: nearly every person, place, and event mentioned in the course of this story is property of Bioware and their associates.

* * *

Prelude- The Great Xanos Arrives

Strong and fearless, a black-cloaked half-orc strode through the frozen wastes, unaffected by the swirling snow. Well, mostly unaffected... Actually, he was certain that his mixed blood was turning to ice in his veins, but as long as he did not think overmuch about that, he was fine. Better than fine! He was Xanos Messarmos, fearsome fighter and gifted sorcerer, and no amount of snow was going to stand in the way of his destiny!

A sudden blast of wind set him to shivering, and he curled more deeply into the protection of his patched blanket- his _cloak,_ he amended swiftly. He had been walking for what seemed like months in the piercing, bone-biting cold, with no shelter but rocks and trees, and no food save what he could catch on his own.

The need to survive meant the need to find civilization. After all, Xanos was meant for a life of wealth and luxury, not clawing out his existence in a snowy wasteland. There were other reasons he craved the presence of others, reasons involving more than his physical health, but those wounds were still too fresh for close examination. For now, he would be content with finding a meal and perhaps a pile of straw in a stable.

His unerring sense of direction had pointed him north. That was two days before, and though it was of course beyond possibility, some of the trees and rock formations he was now passing seemed very similar to ones he had seen before. And, now that he considered it, when had the Sun started to set in the south? Xanos watched it disappear behind the trees with a sense of despair that even his boundless arrogance could not forestall.

Winter nights in the Silver Marches truly redefined the meaning of "cold." The muscles in his legs started to seize up, making walking a test of endurance. Xanos was not fond of tests. He tripped, fought valiantly to regain his balance, and tumbled face-first into a deep drift.

"Curse you, you meddlesome, worthless, sadistic-" unable to think of a fitting epithet for the mindless snow, he simply smashed his fist into the drift and uttered a guttural yell of frustration. "You will not stop me!" he shouted. "Xanos will survive! Xanos will prevail!"

Unfortunately, his fit of rage had used up the scant energy he had left. He tried to get to his feet, but his commands were ignored by his exhausted body. He floundered uselessly in the snow, then lay still, panting. The snow no longer seemed so uncomfortable. In fact, he could hardly feel the cold at all. It was as if he lay in a soft, white bed, and the whistling of the wind in the trees was like a lullaby.

"Xanos will... take a short nap," he mumbled, and closed his eyes.

* * *

At first, Xanos thought he was dreaming. It had been too long since he had felt truly _warm_ for it to be anything but a dream. There was also the matter of the soft hand that touched his face, then gently pushed the hair out of his eyes. Oh yes, he had had _this_ kind of dream before. He grinned and opened his eyes to see what nubile-but-secretly-naughty nymph his subconscious had summoned for his enjoyment.

The hand was attached to an amazingly hairy arm, which was in turn attached to a short, stout old man with spectacles and a robust facial hair. Obviously, the man had used up his hair allowance on his arms and left none for his bald, egg-shaped head. The half-orc's grin disappeared immediately. The stranger noticed and smiled in what Xanos was certain was meant to be an encouraging way.

"Don't worry, my boy, I was only checking to see if you had a fever," said the man- the dwarf, Xanos realized. There was a long moment as Xanos simply stared at him suspiciously and waited for reality to catch up with him.

"My name is Drogan," the dwarf began. "You're in my home now. Yesterday, I found you nearly frozen solid in the forest a few miles from here."

"Where is 'here?'" Xanos asked. Behind his spectacles, Drogan's eyes widened in surprise.

"The town of Hilltop," he answered. "I had assumed you were on your way here and just didn't quite make it.".

"Of course I was on my way here. I was simply making sure that you were not a liar or a simpleton," Xanos said quickly. Drogan laughed.

"Well, assuming that I've passed your test, perhaps we could have the honor of your company for a while longer?"

Xanos mulled this over. At least the dwarf had some sense of respect for his betters... But who was this 'we' he spoke of? Xanos could see no one else in the room. If the dwarf was crazy, perhaps Xanos would be better off outside... In the cold...

"After all, there is no way we would be able to finish a whole pot of beef stew," Drogan added absently.

Then again, perhaps Xanos would be better off eating beef stew.

"There, I knew you'd see the right of it," Drogan said before Xanos even answered. "Come, friend, join me at the table. Aurora, please bring our guest a bowl." From the deepening evening shadows, a second person emerged. Unlike Drogan, she was tall and lean to the point of gauntness. Her cheekbones were prominent, her mouth too wide and rather at odds with the delicate slant of her eyes. Blonde hair hung in scruffy layers to her shoulders. Overall, she looked like a walking scarecrow, Xanos thought with a smirk.

Aurora was scrutinizing Xanos with equal intensity. Even as she ladled the stew into a ceramic bowl and brought it to him, her narrowed eyes never left his face, as if he were a stray dog that might at any moment lunge for her throat. Xanos took the bowl from her and snorted indignantly.

"Luckily for you, this stray is currently too hungry to bother with biting you."

He hadn't really meant to say it out loud. Aurora's eyebrows quirked in puzzlement, and she turned to Drogan.

"Master Drogan, are you sure-"

"There's nothing to worry about, Aurora," the dwarf cut in before the girl could finish whatever no doubt insulting question she had been forming. "I expect you to treat our guest with upmost politeness."

"Of course," she said answered, coloring under the dwarf's reproving gaze. "But he hasn't even told us his name."

"His name is his own to give, Aurora. Why don't you leave us alone for a moment?"

"Yes, master Drogan," she said reluctantly. "I'll be right outside if you have need of me." With a final suspicious look at Xanos, she left and closed the door behind her. The half-orc bared his teeth at the closed door, only just restraining the urge to stick out his tongue as well. Drogan shook his head.

"Don't worry about her, my friend. Aurora has a good nature, despite her excessive mistrust of strangers."

Xanos scowled.

"And I am supposed to believe that my being a half-orc had absolutely nothing to do with her abysmal social skills?"

Drogan regarded him sternly over the rims of his spectacles, and Xanos squirmed under his gaze.

"Less than you might think," the dwarf said, but elaborated no further on why that might be. "In any case, I did not bring you here to discuss my student." He ladled another serving of stew into the bowl and Xanos greedily set to wolfing it down.

"And why exactly did you bring Xanos here?" he asked around a mouthful of potato, then winced. He hadn't intended to let anyone know his name just yet.

"Well, to begin with, this home of mine is really more of a school," the dwarf said, readjusting his position in his chair as if he would be there for a while. Xanos groaned. Long, windy tales were inevitably pointless and boring, unless they were about Xanos. The dwarf continued to ramble, and Xanos decided to stuff himself with as much food as possible and then take his leave as soon as the story was over.

Later, when the fire had burned low and there was more stew in Xanos than in the cauldron, Drogan was still talking of education, apprenticeship, and adventuring. The last held some interest for Xanos, but he still wished that the dwarf would be quiet and let him digest in peace. His mind wandered, and he amused himself by finding shapes in the grain of the wooden table.

There was a leaping rabbit, off to the right of a misshapen boot. A bird with two beaks swooped down on the unsuspecting rabbit from above. And there, at the far end of the table: was that not Xanos himself standing with arms upraised, surrounded by fawning servants and piles of gold?

"-and that brings us at last to the matter of what you owe me, Xanos," Drogan's voice broke into his reverie. "There was your transport in my cart, the use of my skills to heal you, and of course the several gallons of stew you just put away."

Xanos sighed inwardly. The kindness of strangers was most definitely not something he had learned to rely upon, but he had been hoping that just this once...

"Xanos... has no coins," he admitted quietly, hoping that the stupid scarecrow girl was not listening by the door. Drogan nodded, watching him thoughtfully.

"All I ask in return is for you to spend your next week here and allow me to instruct you in the ways of survival, as I have with Aurora. After that, it is entirely up to you if you stay or leave."

Xanos was surprised, to say the least. Surely there was a catch in Drogan's offer, but the idea of food and a place to stay for a week made that seem a pointless concern.

"Very well. Let no man say that Xanos leaves his debts unpaid!"

* * *

By the third day of his stay at Drogan's house in Hilltop, Xanos began to wish that he had left his debt unpaid. Drogan was a harsh instructor, rewarding any lapse in attention with a stinging blow from his staff. Once again, the match finished with Xanos bruised of body and ego, and the dwarf unharmed by a single scratch.

Xanos left the training area cursing under his breath, trying to staunch the flow of blood from his nose. If his training in the fighting arts was any indication, Drogan's instruction in the arcane would leave Xanos picking spell components out of delicate places for weeks.

Aurora was leaning against the wall next the door to his room, apparently waiting for him. Xanos glowered and concentrated on looking fearsome and important as he pinched his nostrils shut with his fingers.

"Don't you have a cornfield you should be guarding?" he said, shooing her away with his free hand. Without a word, Aurora pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and held it out. Xanos snatched it from her and clamped it over his nose, which was thankfully scabbing over. "Well? What do you want? Xanos does not have time to stand and watch as you stare dumbly at his magnificence."

Aurora's eyes flashed, and she swallowed a return jibe with obvious difficulty.

"Master Drogan told me that you were driven away from your former home," she said instead. Xanos tensed, waiting for the accusations and insults to begin. The girl focused on the empty air next to him. "I was going to say that I think you should stay here. Not many people are as accepting as master Drogan. And if you decide to leave, well, good luck." She pushed away from the wall and strode down the hall to her room.

"Xanos has no need of luck! Xanos will forge his way in the world by strength of will alone!" he called after her.

"Someday Xanos will realize that sane people don't refer to themselves in third person," Aurora muttered.

"Xanos heard that! And he is less than amused!" A slamming door signaled the end of Aurora's side of the conversation. "Consider your ruined handkerchief a consequence of the displeasure of Xanos, scarecrow girl," he said to himself, looking at the bloodstained cloth with satisfaction.

Still, the child had a point. That Xanos should encounter by chance an adventurer of Drogan's renown was lucky. That a famous adventurer would then offer to help Xanos hone his skills and become a great adventurer in his own right was more than luck.

It was destiny.

* * *

Next Chapter: 'The First Few Years' Xanos settles in. Aww.


	2. The First Few Years

Prelude 2- The First Few Years

Life for Xanos Messarmos quickly settled into a routine. Most mornings, he would awaken and eat a breakfast of gruel and other such delights, then get beaten senseless by Drogan for a few hours. Next came lunch, and instruction in spell casting that consisted mostly of Xanos trying and failing to block the spells Drogan sent his way. Then it was dinner, after which Drogan never seemed to run out of chores to keep him busy until it was time to sleep.

All in all, it really wasn't so bad. It was much like his previous years, except that the hours he used to spend reading and avoiding contact with all other members of the household were replaced by training that would at least be useful in carving his future out of nothing.

He quickly came to respect Drogan in spite of himself. The dwarf was wilier than he let on, and much more powerful than anyone else Xanos had met. Still, Xanos wondered what good such talents were when they gained their possessor nothing more than a house in a nowhere little town- a drafty house, at that.

Xanos himself had little intention of letting his hard-earned power go to waste. His nights were spent scribbling his most secret plans and strategies in a leather-bound journal. Already he had outlined, pondered, and revised countless methods through which one might acquire a kingdom, or at least a moderately-sized province. He was careful to keep the journal hidden at all times, usually in the inner pocket of his vest, lest another steal his ideas and profit from them.

Eventually, Xanos encountered some of the citizens of Hilltop. He found them to be an uncivilized, inbred bunch of small-minded bumpkins, but still much more likable than the people of his hometown.

One of them, a farmer by the amusingly uninspired name of Hol Holstrom, had the audacity to laugh with his friends about the naturally inferior intelligence of half-orcs while Xanos was well within hearing distance. With a few choice words about Holstrom, Holstrom's mother, and a creative use of farming equipment, Xanos did his best to disabuse him of that notion.

Other interactions with the villagers went just as smoothly, and before long Xanos had gained a quite unsavory reputation for himself. He didn't really mind. As long as nobody chased him with a pitchfork, their opinions were none of his concern.

Aurora kept mostly to herself, and despite living in the same house with her, Xanos could not draw any conclusions about his fellow student other than that she was terribly boring. She rarely spoke to anyone, and when she did she had a way of saying things in such a way that it was nearly impossible to tell if she were being sarcastic or not. Xanos amused himself for a while with trying to break through her solemn shell with well-crafted taunts and the like, but earned nothing more than an increase in pseudo-sarcasm whenever she spoke with him.

To his surprise, Drogan never allowed the two of them to spar. Most likely, he was afraid that he would end of with one less student by the end of the match. Still, Xanos would have liked the opportunity to take the girl down a peg or three, since Drogan so obviously preferred her to his more talented pupil.

At times, Xanos felt he might go mad with only a grouchy dwarf and a mute skeleton girl to talk to. Because of this, he was quite glad to hear that Drogan intended to take on another student. This excitement was dashed to pieces shortly after he met her, and realized that he now had _two_ grouchy dwarves and a mute skeleton girl to talk to.

The new student was an unappetizing dwarven woman by the name of Dorna Trapspringer. Though Aurora and Dorna quickly took to mutually ignoring one another's existences, Dorna seemed to take a particular delight in baiting Xanos. He could rarely say a single sentence without Dorna weighing in with a snarky comment, or worse, a certain look that let him know exactly what she thought of him.

Between Dorna's prodding and Aurora's aloof contempt, Xanos sometimes felt that the school was his own, special little corner of hell. Somehow, he managed to avoid slaughtering either of them, and over the years he became quite accustomed to it all.

Seasons changed, years passed. Xanos grew from a youth to a young man, Drogan lost a little more hair, and Aurora grew nearly as tall as Xanos, becoming even bonier than before. Through Drogan's training, Xanos learned to control the magic that flowed through him. Xanos rarely inadvertently changed his hair color or set things on fire any more, although there was the occasional 'accident,' usually involving Dorna.

All in all, life was better than Xanos had ever hoped it would be. Thoughts of his unhappy past faded to a murmur, although they still remained as motivation to become ever stronger and more powerful. Xanos became used to Hilltop, and to the people that lived there.

* * *

**Next Chapter: 'A Paladin and Puppy Love' **Sweet Mischa of the golden hair and empty head. Xanos is a jerk, as usual.


	3. A Paladin and Puppy Love

Prelude 3- A Paladin and Puppy Love

Mischa Waymeet was beautiful. Pale gold hair, blue eyes warm and wide with angelic innocence, smooth, milky skin- a chaste maiden straight from a romantic ballad. She was an aspiring paladin, desiring nothing more than to do good works in the name of Mystra and rid the world of the taint of evil. Such a combination of beauty, grace, and goodness was certainly a rare blessing.

Xanos disliked her immediately. From the first she had been unable to look him in the eye. It was as if he had a terrible deformity, and Mischa was politely trying to pretend she had not noticed. Of course, she had no such problems with Drogan himself, or with dour little Dorna. Why Drogan had decided Xanos should play tour guide to the overeager child was beyond him. Perhaps the old dwarf hoped some of her good intentions would wear off on him?

He snickered, but Mischa was too preoccupied to notice. She followed at his heels, eyes shining as if she were in a glorious castle and not an aging wooden house. He went upstairs and gestured at the doors lining the hallway.

"These are the apprentice's quarters," he said flatly, then turned to leave. Mischa looked like she wanted to explore further, but Xanos started down the stairs again before she had the chance. "Here are the doors to the kitchen, the library, the training rooms, and Drogan's laboratory." Again, he strode to the front door and escaped through it before the girl could protest. "And there," he pointed, "is the barn. Enjoy."

This time, an insistent tug on his shirt sleeve stopped him. He looked down at Mischa's hand with distaste.

"Xanos understands that it is difficult to restrain your urges, but he does not appreciate being pawed in such a manner." She didn't seem to hear him.

"Who is that?" she breathed. "Is he a student here as well?" Xanos, puzzled, followed her line of sight to see Aurora, chopping wood for the coming winter. Her back was to them, her sleeveless tunic offering a view of the muscles in her shoulders as she raised the axe and swung it down. With her short hair, and little in the way of curves to betray her femininity, he could understand Mischa's mistake. He gave Drogan's newest student a friendly push in Aurora's direction.

"Why don't you go and introduce yourself?"

"Oh, do you really think I should?" Mischa was blushing now, running her fingers through her already perfect hair in an effort to smooth it further.

"Yes," Xanos said with a smile the girl was free to interpret as she wished. "I _really_ think you should."

Tentatively, Mischa approached the object of her infatuation.

"E-excuse me. I'm Mischa Waymeet, Master Drogan's new stu-" the rest of Mischa's introduction turned into a mortified squeak as Aurora turned to greet her. "You- you evil man!" she sputtered, glaring at Xanos. He gasped in feigned indignation.

"It pains the heart of Xanos to hear such an accusation! I, who live only to instill happiness in others!"

Aurora caught his eyes briefly.

"I see you've met Xanos," she said to Mischa. "I'm Aurora Dawn. I train with master Drogan as well. It's good to meet you."

"And you as well," Mischa said. She curtsied politely, then glowered at Xanos so fiercely he feared his head might burst into flames. "I- I should return to the house and, ah, unpack my things."

Aurora shrugged and returned to her chore. Mischa turned on her heel walked away so quickly that Xanos had to jog to keep up. He corralled her at the door.

"I think that went well. Don't you, dear Mischa?"

"You're a beast!" she cried, pushing past him and running up the stairs in proper distraught adolescent girl fashion. Xanos whistled to himself as he made for the library, lighter of heart than he had been in days. Perhaps having the prim paladinette at the school was not such a bad thing after all.

* * *

Next Chapter: 'The Threshing Day Festival' Half-orcs are famed for their mastery of social graces, such as dancing, conversing, and occasionally refraining from breaking the necks of those who irritate them.


	4. The Threshing Day Festival

Prelude 4- The Threshing Day Festival__

__"Please?"

Mischa's petulant whining floated down the hallway, through Xanos' closed door, through the pillow he had stuffed around his head. She had been arguing with Aurora the entire morning, and showed no sign of tiring soon. Grumbling, he grabbed another pillow and wrapped it around the first. It didn't help.

"Absolutely not," Aurora answered for the thousandth time. Judging by the blandness of her tone, she had tuned out the younger girl hours ago.

"But Aurora, I'm begging you!"

"Indeed."

"Then will you go?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Perhaps I should just smother the both of them," the half-orc growled, throwing his bedding to the floor. "Bah, if only Xanos knew how to cast 'silence!'"

Drogan and Dorna were both away for the rest of the day, most likely going over the finer points of petty thievery and whiling away the daylight in stony dwarven silence. Oh, how Xanos envied them! He stalked downstairs, his hands curled into fists. The bickering buzzed about his ear canals with the persistence of angry mosquitoes.

"Come on, Aurora! You'd have a wonderful time!"

"I can only imagine. Unfortunately, I had plans for tonight."

"You did? What plans?"

"The silverware has gotten a bit dingy. I thought I would give it a good polishing."

"Are you... Are you teasing me, Aurora?"

Xanos rounded a corner, bringing the combatants into view. Aurora was backed against the wall by the paladin-to-be, who was looking at her with pleading, watery eyes. Mischa had hold of the larger girl's hand and was wringing it like a piece of wet laundry. His arrival did nothing to halt the arguing. He could probably have walked into the room naked and wreathed in faery fire without catching their attention.

"Take a look in the silverware drawer, if you'd like, " Aurora said. "The forks in particular are- are you crying, Mischa? There's no need for it. If you want to go, you should go."

As Mischa dabbed daintily at her tears, she once more repeated the crux of her argument. "But Master Drogan said I couldn't go unless you escorted me! I can't just sneak out!"

"Such are the moral dilemmas of a paladin."

Just when Xanos was beginning to think that the finality of Aurora's words would put an end to the argument at last, Mischa sniffed tragically.

"But Aurora-"

"Shut up!" Xanos thundered."By the gods, Xanos will rip your tongues from your mouths and stuff the ragged wound with Drogan's dirty socks if you do not cease this ridiculous mewling!" Whatever Mischa was saying evaporated into stunned silence. She turned to gawk at Xanos, her mouth still open. There was no sound but the distant lowing of the cows in the barn.

Contrary to Mischa, Aurora actually seemed relieved by the interruption.

"I certainly don't want to invoke the fearsome barbarian rage of Xanos, Mischa." Aurora extricated her trapped hand with some difficulty. "It looks like this conversation has to end now."

Mischa's lower lip started to tremble.

"But- but Xanos, I can't go to the Threshing Day Festival unless Aurora goes with me." Fresh tears welled up in her bright blue eyes. "I've wanted to go so terribly..." The first tears spilled onto her smooth, pale cheeks. Xanos shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Xanos?" she whimpered, her voice cracking pitifully.

"Argh!" he shouted, throwing his hands into the air in defeat. "Aurora, just take her to the stupid dance!"

Xanos could almost read the word in Aurora's narrowed eyes: _traitor_.

"I'll do it," she said. "But only if Xanos agrees to come along as well."

Mischa's brilliant smile shamed the noon light streaming through the windows.

"Oh, thank you, Xanos!" she cried, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him exuberantly. "You'll come with us, won't you?"

"Yes, of course I will," he answered automatically. The world had gone fuzzy at the edges, and he was rather enjoying it.

Then he realized what he had just agreed to do. At precisely the same moment, Mischa realized whom she had just embraced. They both recoiled with similar expressions of disgust. The girl's dismay, at least, was short-lived.

"We'll have such a good time! Come on, Aurora, I'll let you borrow some of my clothes!" She took Aurora's hand once more, and Drogan's eldest student allowed herself to be dragged away, pausing only to give Xanos the slightest of smiles.

* * *

Xanos paced back and forth at the foot of the stairs, unwilling to risk rumpling his nicest set of clothes by sitting down. The two girls had disappeared into Mischa's room eons ago, apparently never to emerge. Xanos had no desire to attend the ridiculous event in the first place, but being forced to wait was making it worse. He was just on the edge of bolting for the safety of the woods when Mischa made her appearance at the top of the stairs.

She was a vision in pale blue, her gown tailored to perfectly suit her emerging figure. Her golden hair was pulled back in soft curls. She seemed to float down the stairs with a lilting, ethereal grace.

Trailing behind her was Aurora, looking uncharacteristically timid in her borrowed gown. It wasn't quite the right length for someone so tall, and the fabric dipped and sagged in search of curves she didn't own. Xanos looked from one blonde to the other and couldn't help but laugh.

"Mischa, be careful!" he called out. "Your reflection has somehow escaped from the carnival mirror, and it doesn't look very happy!"

He smirked, hoping for a heated retort from his fellow student. To his disappointment, Aurora only turned her head away as she walked past.

"Xanos, don't be so awful!" Mischa said disparagingly. She put her arm around Aurora's skinny shoulders. "I think you look perfectly lovely. And in any case-" she rose her voice and went on before Xanos could interrupt with another jibe, "-we'd better hurry, or we'll be late to the festival."

"By all means, let's hurry," Aurora said quietly. "Perhaps we'll get there in time to see the mayor vomit all over his expensive boots."

Mischa, obviously trying to decide if she were joking or not, settled for giggling uncomfortably as she pulled her skirts up off of the floor and strolled outside.

With widely varying degrees of enthusiasm, the three of them set off for Hilltop proper.

As they approached town hall, the sounds of the celebration carried to them through the clear evening air. Already, Xanos could hear the sounds of rampant instrument abuse. He grimaced, more sure that ever that he should not have agreed to go the Threshing Day Festival.

"Those dingy forks of yours are starting to sound preferable to this ninnyfest, Aurora."

She pointedly ignored him.

"Oh, I love dancing!" Mischa, ever fond of non sequiturs, exclaimed to anyone and no one. At least _she_ wasn't in an inexplicably foul mood. "I hope that some of the gentlemen decide to invite me onto the floor."

"I am certain that there will be no short supply of bumbling simpletons vying for your hand, dear prudish one," Xanos said. Mischa halted mid-step.

"Oh no! What if you're right, Xanos?" Her hand flew to her mouth.

"Eh... what?"

"What if they think I'm a prude? They've most likely never encountered a paladin before. What if they assume I'm cold? What if they think I'm a-" she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a horrified whisper, "-a _tease_?"

"Xanos fails to see how that assertion would be incorrect," he offered, and was impressed when her eyes somehow manage to widen even farther. He entertained a brief hope that they would simply fall out of her skull and dangle down the neckline of her pretty frock.

"Aurora, you have to help me! Dance with me, please!" Mischa actually hopped in place in her urgency, skirts aflutter.

Aurora's bony fingers twitched at her sides, and Xanos imagined that she was just barely refraining from wrapping them around a certain pale, slender throat.

"I fail to see how that would help," she said evenly.

"Well," Mischa began, blushing, "Mother used to tell me that gentlemen would rather cut in than speak to a lady waiting on the sidelines." Aurora cocked her head to the side and stared, as if Mischa had suggested taking a stroll through a gelatinous cube.

Then, her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"As you wish," she said, then continued into the Hall with Mischa at her heels.

_Stupid Mischa,_ Xanos thought. _Why ask the scarecrow girl when Xanos himself is right here? Eh, perhaps she rightly fears my superior dancing prowess._

With a final longing thought about what wonderful hiding places cornfields made, Xanos entered the Hall.

There was little in the way of actual decoration, but there was alcohol and platters of freshly harvested fruits and vegetables, and the tables had been pushed away from the center of the building to create a makeshift dance floor.

Aurora was, Xanos had to admit, a decent enough dancer. Leading Mischa through both simple and complicated steps, she acquired the same strange gracefulness he had witnessed the times he had watched her practice her fighting skills. All of her awkward angles and too-long limbs somehow resolved into fluid movement. Mischa laughed and twirled and dipped along with her.

It was not long until a trio of young men approached them, just as Mischa had hoped. Xanos drifted close enough to overhear.

"-if you would grace me with a dance this night," Simpleton One finished. Xanos did not need to hear the first part of his proclamation to know it was as subtle as a lead brick in a glass chamber pot.

Simpleton Two made his own offer.

"If you find this fellow can't match your pace, I'd be happy to take his place."

A rhyme. How utterly insipid.

"My father owns the largest granary," Simpleton Three contributed. Obviously, he had an intricate understanding of how the female mind functioned. All three addressed Mischa alone.

Now obsolete, Aurora wandered away from the dance floor and disappeared amongst the revelers.

Xanos eventually grew tired of watching Mischa's adventures with the pathetically eager young men, and turned his gaze upon the rest of the crowd.

Mayor Veraunt was engaged in conversation with a local farmer, not looking nearly drunk enough to ruin his boots as Aurora had predicted. Most of the younger people of Hilltop had paired off, and were either dancing or searching for shadowy corners in which to better acquaint themselves. Small groups of farmers were discussing regional politics, figures of the most recent harvest, and the like. He caught sight of Aurora more than once, and each time she seemed to be either filling her mug or taking a drink from it.

Eventually, she ended up standing near Xanos. Her face was slightly flushed, and her eyes looked brighter than usual.

"You look like you're having fun," she said, searching the nearby tabletops. She snagged another mug of ale from a tray and leaned back against the wall. Xanos frowned.

"So, you are deigning to speak to Xanos again. What could I ever have done to deserve such an honor?"

"You're a complete ass with all the charm of a venereal infection," Aurora said between sips, "but at least you realize I exist."

Xanos could hardly believe his ears. Aurora had just said more than a handful of words to him of her own volition. And if he was not mistaken, they had been spoken with an unusual amount of vigor. Apparently, copious amounts of alcohol had succeeded where insults and teasing had failed. Not that that meant he should stop trying, of course.

"Oh, the heart of Xanos! How it warms! And all it took was the kind words of a beautiful woman." He leaned towards her, adopting the tone of a trusted confidante. "Next time you borrow a dress from Mischa, I advise you to borrow her figure as well." The way her face hardened let him know he had not troubled himself in vain.

"At least I can't help but look better standing next to you," she muttered. Xanos, expecting her to reply with something rude, was rather mollified.

"That is certainly true, Aurora. But do not expect to bask in the reflected social success of Xanos forever."

For some reason, this caused Aurora to choke on her mouthful of ale. When she was able to stop coughing, she pressed a second mug into his hand.

"A toast," she said, raising her mug, "to the astounding depths of your self delusion."

"Hmmph. You speak of my delusion even as you do your best to become intoxicated! Alcohol is the solace of the weak."

His masterfully executed snort of derision went unappreciated as a careless reveler bumped against Aurora's outstretched mug, spilling its contents all over the front of her dress. Thankfully, Xanos was standing far enough away to avoid being doused.

Aurora gasped loudly enough to draw the attention of several of the people standing nearby, including the young man who had jostled her drink. He was Ferran something-or-other, a quiet, polite youth with whom Xanos had rarely spoken.

"I'm sorry, Aurora! I didn't see you," he said earnestly. "Come with me, and we'll get you cleaned up."

"It's nothing, Ferran," Aurora said, picking at the wet fabric miserably.

"Nonsense!" He took her hand and started to lead her away. "We'll find you something nice and dry to wear."

"Well..." Aurora began, but Ferran was already dragging her out of the Hall.

"The youth of today!" Xanos exclaimed to no one in particular. "Can they not be bothered to give a simple 'good evening' to their betters?"

Sometime later, Ferran and Aurora appeared once more. She had changed into trousers and a shirt, and looked more comfortable than she had all night. To Xanos' surprise, the two of them did not part company. Instead, they joined a large group of local lads sitting in a circle in a quieter corner of the hall.

Having nothing better to do, Xanos decided to see what they were up to.

The group of young men turned out to be playing cards. Judging by the stacks of petty coin in the center of the circle, this was not just a friendly game of old maid.

"Ah, if it isn't Aurora! Come to join us, have you?" one of the boys asked, grinning. Of all the players, he had the largest stack of coins.

"I was just planning on watching, actually," Aurora said. "I'm not much for cards."

Ferran and the others looked disappointed.

"We'll play a low-stakes game at first. You'll pick up the rules soon enough!"

"I'm afraid I've no coin with me tonight. Unless Xanos would be kind enough to led me ten gold pieces for the night, I have nothing to bet."

Xanos was momentarily surprised at being spoken to, but he recovered quickly.

"Why would Xanos let you waste his precious wealth? Bah! If you promise to repay me fifteen when we return home, you may borrow ten now."

Aurora considered this, then nodded.

"I suppose that's alright. Are you going to play?"

Xanos laughed derisively.

"Never! Xanos knows better than to waste his time on this sort of foolishness!"

Aurora shrugged and joined the circle. The first hand was dealt, and she stared at her cards blankly.

"Would you mind going over the rules again?" she asked. They did. She stared at her cards a while longer, shrugged, and raised the bet by a ridiculous amount. Her hand, once revealed, was just short of awful. The boy who had been grinning earlier positively beamed.

Xanos shook his head in disgust as Aurora proceeded to quickly lose almost all of the money he had lent her. When he could bear to look no longer, he decided to take a walk around the Hall.

Mischa had tired of dancing and was now gossiping and giggling with the local girls. The farmers who had been discussing politics were now performing pitiful, drunken rendition of popular dance steps and guffawing. The mayor was asleep on the table. Still, no one bothered to speak with him.

He returned to the card game, where things looked to have changed little.

"What do you say we up the ante a bit now?" one of the boys suggested.

"You still have a small bit of coin, Aurora," Farren said kindly. "Why not play one last hand?"

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt," she answered. When it was her turn, she bet her final two pieces of gold.

The cards were turned up, and to the surprise of Xanos and the boys, Aurora's hand narrowly beat out the rest. She shored up her newly won gold without a twinge of emotion.

They continued to play, and more and more often Aurora ended up with the winning hand. By the end of an hour, some of the boys were borrowing from her just to be able to stay in the game. Soon after, there was a mutual decision to stop playing before they lost any more money.

"I can't believe it," one of the players muttered as he left. "She's a shark."

"How did you do that?" Xanos asked Aurora when she stood. "Surely you could not win so often by playing fairly!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said serenely. "But you should see what I can do when I'm dealing." She handed him a stack of coin. He counted it, and found 35 gold pieces. "As the one who funded me, you're entitled to half of my winnings," she said.

Xanos gave her a long, careful look, just to make sure that this was the same dull and quiet girl from Drogan's school. She had the hint of a smile in her eyes, and color in her cheeks from the ale. Together, this had the effect of softening her features in a way that was almost...

Xanos realized what he was thinking and shuddered. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed them roughly with his knuckles. When he opened them again, Aurora was once again nothing more than the bony, sharp-featured scarecrow girl.

"Ugh... Xanos had definitely been awake too long," he said to himself.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Nothing you need to hear." He waved her away. "Now run along. Surely you can find something better to do than irritate me."

"I'll let you get back to standing alone and talking to yourself, then." If there had been any sort of sparkle to her eyes, it was certainly gone now.

Aurora spoke no further to him that evening. For that matter, neither did anyone else. Eventually, the boredom proved too great and he returned to master Drogan's house alone.

He couldn't think of much to do there, either. He wandered the empty house aimlessly, until at last his eyes happened upon the chest that held the polishing cloths.

"Eh, why not," he said, taking one out and heading for the kitchen. After all, the forks were looking particularly dingy.

* * *

Next Chapter: 'Thievery and Sour Pickles' A chapter in which the word "pickle" is written nearly a dozen times. Also features the great and amazifying Drizzt! Kind of.


	5. Thievery and Sour Pickles

Prelude 5- Thievery and Sour Pickles

Xanos sat on his bed in his dark room, eyes closed, concentrating on the latent magic that dwelt within his being. Just as Drogan had taught him, he envisioned himself successfully casting a light spell.

_A string of ancient words of power. And then, a surge of energy from deep within his body, pouring out of his upraised hands in rays of brilliant light that chase every last shadow from the room._

With a last, calming breath, he opened his eyes and cast.

"_Ezzit drae'il noctus, pickle ignestio!_"

A single spark fizzled at the tip of one finger. His shoulders slumped.

"Pickle?" he muttered. "What would drive Xanos to say such a thing?"

His stomach gurgled guiltily in response.

"Yes, yes," he sighed, patting it. "Xanos should not focus on his mind to the detriment of his body. Perhaps I could focus better with a full stomach."

He opened his door, careful to keep in from squeaking, and paused in the hall. The doors to the other three rooms were shut, their occupants dreaming the night away like good little children. As usual, Dorna was snoring loudly. No doubt her droning had covered up the sound of his spellcasting. The door to Drogan's room was also closed. Xanos made sure it stayed that way as he walked to the staircase that led to the lower floor. Technically, the students were not prohibited from wandering the house in the night hours, but Drogan had made it clear that certain rooms were off limits unless he was present to keep them from hurting themselves. The laboratory, with its strange chemicals and dangerous machines, and the training rooms, with their collections of weaponry, topped the list. Lately, due to the suspicious disappearance of several sour pickles from Drogan's personal stash, (something that Xanos of course had absolutely nothing to do with,) late night visits to the kitchen pantry were outlawed as well.

His darkvision worked well enough to keep him from knocking anything over as he walked, but he took his time nonetheless. A single loose floorboard could be enough to rouse Drogan from his rest, and Xanos had no desire to be stuck with whatever intolerable task the old dwarf would come up with as punishment.

Xanos had nearly reached the kitchen when he heard a creaking sound. He tensed, convinced that the dwarf had discovered him after all. Then he heard it again, and this time he was certain it had come from in front of him, inside the kitchen. He peered around the doorway, squinting in the darkness. The room was empty, but the window in the far wall was open a crack. Outside the window, the summer night was moonless and black.

As he watched, a knife blade slid beneath the windowframe and jimmied it further open. Soon after, the knife was replaced by two black-gloved hands. Xanos ducked behind the doorway, his pulse beating loudly in his ears. _A thief, here in master Drogan's house? _Nervousness quickly gave way to anger. _How dare anyone seek to defile the chosen home of Xanos?_

He heard the window slide open, and the soft thump of boots on the floor. Muscles tense, he waited for the proper time to spring.

The moment the unsuspecting intruder came near, they were plowed to the floor by 240 pounds of angry half-orc. A blade whistled through the darkness, slicing into Xanos' shoulder. Before his opponent could strike again, Xanos caught hold of their hand and bent it backwards at the wrist. They cried out in pain, and the weapon clattered to the floor. Xanos grabbed the knife before the other could recover and pressed it to what he hoped was their throat.

"Stop fighting and perhaps your windpipe will remain functional," he said in a conversational tone, pressing his knee more firmly into his opponent's stomach for good measure.

"Xanos?" A tentative whisper.

A heady combination of adrenaline and elation at his victory made coherent thought difficult. He remained frozen in place as the gears slowly turned in his mind.

"Xanos?" Louder, and accompanied by a grunt of pain. It finally clicked.

"Idiot girl! What in the nine hells were you doing?" he snapped.

"Hush, you'll wake up master Drogan," Aurora whispered back. "And I'll answer you as soon as you stop crushing my internal organs."

Xanos moved his knee with deliberate slowness.

"Why shouldn't I wake the old dwarf? I'm sure he would be curious to learn about the nocturnal escapades of his favorite pupil."

Aurora sat up, arms wrapped protectively around her stomach. Even though her face was indistinct in the dark, he suspected she was scowling at him.

"He'd find you, too," she said. Xanos found that point hard to argue. She rummaged through something on the floor, and soon after a small candle flared to life. The weak light played across her vulpine features- and yes, she was defiantly scowling. "Close the door before anyone hears us."

Xanos did so, and felt a twinge of pain in his arm. His shoulder ached where Aurora had wounded it. She noticed him wincing and moved the candle to better see the injury.

"I cut you more deeply than I thought," she said, and Xanos could not tell if she were contrite or pleased. "You startled me. It was reflex. Here." She moistened a corner of her cloak in a bucket of well water, then tried to clean the blood from his arm. He stood her ministrations as long as he was able, then pushed her away in irritation.

"Xanos will not forgive you. This was my favorite shirt."

"If it makes you feel better, you got me just as badly." She held her hand in the light and peeled back her glove. Her wrist was puffy and already turning red and purple. It did made Xanos feel a little better, but his glare did not soften.

"What were you doing down here, anyway?" Aurora asked, apparently unfazed by the wrath of Xanos.

"Defending the school from mysterious, black-clad intruders, obviously."

"I see. And your godlike precognitive powers let you know I would be sneaking through the window right then." She looked briefly around the kitchen, then back at Xanos. "You were going to steal master Drogan's sour pickles again, weren't you?"

"Xanos was doing no such thing," he protested. Aurora shook her head gravely.

"That's very devious of you, Xanos. Besides, didn't you know he would hide them after the first time?" She reached into the potato barrel nearest the door with her unhurt hand, pushing the vegetables aside until she was elbow-deep.

"Perhaps you are hard of hearing, girl. Xanos did not come here to... What in the world are you doing?"

"Ah, here it is." She pulled a large jar from the barrel and handed it to Xanos. He opened it and was immediately assaulted by the sour, briny odor.

"Drogan's pickles? How did you..?"

"You're not the only one who has a taste for them," Aurora said, taking a pickle from the jar. "If we split just one, I don't think he'll notice."

She continued to stare evenly at him as she broke the pickle in half and held a piece out to him. He hesitated to take it, though his mouth watered.

"I find it suspicious that you would break one of Drogan's rules, let alone one of Drogan's pickles, in such a nonchalant manner. You seem too preoccupied with licking the old dwarf's boots to find time to misbehave."

"Damn. I've gone and revealed the black-hearted depths of my evil. I suppose I'll have to kill you now to keep my secret safe." Aurora chuckled without smiling, which was really rather creepy. "Don't worry, I'll have Mischa come up with a proper penance for my sins tomorrow. Now take the pickle, it's turning my fingers all wrinkly."

Xanos relented and did as she asked, making sure that he took the larger portion. As they consumed their prizes, it occurred to Xanos that she had never given a reason for her late night outing.

"Tell me, why did you sneak out tonight? And do not try to evade the question this time."

"I wasn't doing anything wrong," she said too quickly, suggesting the opposite was true.

"I suppose you snuck out in the dead of night to bring food to starving orphans or some such nonsense? Bah!"

Aurora toyed with the edge of her cloak and looked away without answering. Xanos smirked.

"Ohoho! Xanos is no fool! So, your questionable charms have finally ensnared a paramour. Tell me, dear Aurora. Which moon-eyed cowherd's son has, eh, laid his 'rose' at your 'feet?'"

For a second Xanos thought she would slap him, but she only sighed heavily and looked at the floor.

"I suppose you all would have found out sooner or later anyway," she mumbled. "I was afraid that none of you would approve of him."

Xanos laughed heartily, remembering too late that they were trying to keep quiet.

"Well? Tell me who he is so I can send my condolences."

Still, Aurora did not raise her eyes. From the way she was picking at the edges of her cloak, the fabric would not be able to hold out for much longer.

"Well," she said, "he wasn't brought up with the best morals. But he's managed to rise above his upbringing, and now he's a very decent person, really. He's acquired a bit of fame as an adventurer, as well."

"Has he? Xanos should have heard of him, then! Out with it, girl, who is he?" Xanos was leaning forward now, ears pricked lest he somehow miss out on this most valuable piece of ammunition.

"There's one last thing... He's a drow." Xanos's jaw dropped, but Aurora went on before he could say anything. "It's true, what they say about not being able to choose the one you love. But if you find that strange, you should see the way he can wield two scimitars at once."

Xanos stared at her for several long minutes. Aurora stared back blandly.

"You're an idiot," he said at last.

She shrugged.

"Stupid questions deserve stupid answers. Besides, you believed me until– what was that?"

Her usually narrow eyes went wide as saucers. A moment later, Xanos heard it too. Footsteps on the floor above, moving towards the stairs. The two students shared a horrified glance before simultaneously springing to action.

Aurora snatched her fallen pack from the floor and slipped into the pantry as Xanos opened the kitchen door to its former position and blew out the candle. Then, he jammed himself into the small pantry as well, barely managing to shut the door behind him.

Aurora's bony elbows were jabbing him in the side, and he was pretty sure that her injured wrist was pinned between his shoulder and the wall, but there was no time to find a better position. The footsteps drew closer, circling about the common room as if their owner was searching for something. They stopped just outside the kitchen.

"How strange." Drogan's voice, soft and sleepy. Xanos' heart leapt to his throat. "I could have sworn I closed that window before going to bed. I must be getting forgetful in my old age." There was a pause that seemed to last a hundred years, punctuated by the sound of Drogan shutting the window. "And hearing things, too. Never a good sign." The dwarf yawned and shuffled towards the door. Xanos silently released the breath he had been holding.

"One more thing," Drogan said from the doorway, his voice suddenly not tired in the least. "If I find that even one of my sour pickles is missing, a certain pair of misbehaving students will be mucking out the stables for a month."

Xanos hardly registered the sounds of Drogan climbing the stairs and shutting the door to his room. It took several long minutes for him to realize that it was safe to leave the pantry.

They walked up to the apprentice's quarters with the slow, measured steps of condemned criminals.

As they neared her room, Aurora leaned over and gave Xanos a friendly punch on the shoulder right where she had wounded him. He grunted in pain.

"See you in the stables," she whispered, then went inside. It was only after she closed the door that he realized she had never explained the real reason she had snuck out.

"Stupid scarecrow girl," he muttered under his breath. His shoulder was aching, his stomach was growling again, and now he would be stuck shoveling manure for an entire month.

More than anything else in the world, Xanos wished he had another sour pickle.

* * *

Next Chapter 'A Very Strange Night': What? A chapter actually containing Dorna? Plus, it's all fun and games until somebody loses a finger.


	6. A Very Odd Night

Prelude 6- A Very Odd Night

_As always, he is a child, running through a vast, open field with nowhere to hide, and something is chasing him. Some nights it is a generic snarling monster, other nights it is the village boys who used to torment him. And sometimes, like this night, it is his own mother who hunts him. _

_Each time he steals a look over his shoulder, she is closer behind him. Her chestnut hair trails out behind her, her face is twisted with rage, and she holds in each hand the shard of a fancy porcelain serving dish. _

_He runs until his sides are aching, but his mother is tireless in her pursuit. The moment he slows, she is at his heels, wrapping her vice-like arms around him and lifting him from the ground. _

_Then he is under water, fighting for breath, and his mother is dragging him down like an anchor. _

_His grandmother's hand plunges into the water, reaching for him, and he tries to take hold of it, but she is too late to help him. The hand disappears as he is pulled to the depths of the water, and as his lungs burn and finally burst, his mother shouts in his ear:_

_"Horrid little monster! You broke it! You broke it! How could you? You broke it YOU BROKE IT YOU BROKE-"_

Xanos awoke on the floor next to his bed, out of breath and hopelessly tangled in his blankets. The dream was still fresh and terrible in his mind, so he forced himself to concentrate as he recited a list of facts.

"I am no longer a child. My mother is weeks of travel away from here. I am at Drogan's house. I am a powerful warrior and sorcerer and I am– " he grimaced– "laying in something wet and disgusting." He rolled to one side and looked down at his chest, saw the blood that matted the fabric there, and nearly screamed before it occurred to him that a gaping wound was usually accompanied by some sort of discomfort. It also wouldn't explain the greenish something-or-other crumpled on the floorboards where he had been laying.

Squinting at the strange object, he could just make out the shape of a single tiny, webbed foot.

"Hoppy? Eh, is that you?" Xanos poked what had been his amphibian familiar and was now more of a frog pancake. There was no response. With a surge of guilt, Xanos realized that he must have fallen onto the unfortunate creature in his sleep.

He considered the remains, then scooped Hoppy onto a piece of parchment. He folded the parchment into a little package, then opened his window and tossed the makeshift coffin outside.

"Fare you well, dear Hoppy. Xanos will miss your annoying little comments and clammy skin." He closed the window and wiped his hands on his shirt, leaving a nasty smear. "Oh wait, no I won't. Damnable creature."

Clammy skin aside, Hoppy had at least done Xanos the favor of distracting him from his nightmare. He cleaned up and dressed, then went downstairs for something to eat.

In the kitchen, Mischa was humming a merry tune and setting the table for breakfast. Dorna was already sitting down. Xanos pulled up a chair and sat down across from her with his chin in his hand.

"Good morning, Xanos!" Mischa sang out brightly, placing a plate on the table between his elbows.

"I fail to see anything good about it," he said through his fingers. "You know, morning people rank somewhere between psoriasis and disembowelment on Xanos' list of favorite things."

"You're always so gloomy, Xanos," Mischa said, frowning. "You'll never be happy until you start to look for the beautiful things in life." She turned to the stove, unaware of the rude gesture Xanos made at her back.

Mischa was growing up. Xanos was glad that her childishness was disappearing, but she had entered a phase where she said almost everything as if it were a pearl of wisdom. She seemed to put particular effort into 'redeeming' Xanos, as though he were especially at risk to become evil and take over the world. Which, now that he thought about it, was probably not very far off of the mark.

Dorna leaned forward and looked at him from the corners of her eyes.

"Mischa's making breakfast for us. Isn't that nice?" Her tone suggested it was nothing of the sort. "D'you remember the last time she cooked, Xanos?"

Xanos thought about it. He caught brief flashes of memories: eating something that looked like a shepard's pie but tasted like potting soil; a feeling like a thousand earthworms twisting in his stomach; racing with Aurora and Dorna to reach the outhouse before they did. . . He shook his head. Whatever had happened that night, he had suppressed the memory of it for good reason. He looked at Dorna and saw his horror reflected in her eyes.

Mischa finished what she was doing and turned to face them. She was holding something behind her back and smiling. Xanos gave her a suspicious look.

"Unless you have a nymph and a jar of honey back there, Xanos wants nothing to do with it," he said.

Mischa's mouth formed a moue of distaste.

"Honestly, Xanos, must you be so vulgar? No, don't answer that." She shuddered, then regained her composure. "Now, then. . . Breakfast is served!" She revealed the serving dishes that had been hidden behind her and removed the lids with a flourish. One contained an amorphous gray substance, the other hard chunks of what seemed to be charcoal.

When no one made a move to serve themselves, Mischa took matters into her own hands. She scooped a spoonful from each dish onto Xanos' plate, then served Dorna as well. Warily, Xanos poked the gray blob with his fork. He wasn't sure, but he thought he heard it hiss.

Dorna echoed his thoughts.

"Isn't there some kind of happy medium between burnt to a crisp and still alive?" she asked.

"Don't be silly," Mischa said, sounding a bit put out. "They are perfectly good biscuits and eggs."

"Eggs? You mean to tell me that some of this came out of a chicken?" Dorna's expression wavered between amusement and disbelief.

"You haven't even tried it yet!" Mischa said crossly.

"Feel free to take the first bite, Mischa." Dorna leaned back and crossed her arms implacably. Xanos nodded in agreement.

"Yes, you eat it first. Then we can wait a few minutes and see if you start convulsing or foaming at the mouth."

Mischa looked at Dorna, then at Xanos, then at the food, biting her lip.

Ultimately, it was Master Drogan who saved the day– or at least saved Mischa from an afternoon of projectile vomiting. He swept into the kitchen, plunked into a chair, and spooned Mischa's abominations onto his plate. He seemed too distracted to notice the expressions of his students as he speared a bit of charcoal on his fork, twirled it in the gray blob, and stuck it in his mouth.

For a moment nothing happened. Then Drogan's face spasmed once, and a tear trickled from one eye. He calmly put down his fork, wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, and turned to Mischa.

"You're a fine student, child. But promise me that you will never, ever go near the stove again."

* * *

Drogan was in no shape to assign training or chores, so after breakfast Xanos found himself in possession of that rarest of luxuries: free time. He decided to find a secluded spot in the shade and do a bit of reading.

He was just getting caught up in the story of King Feldebar the Flatulent when he was interrupted by the sound of jangling metal and clopping hooves.

A lone rider was approaching, clad in pure white armor that matched the coat of his mount. He held aloft a banner bearing the insignia of an eye, from which extended the rays of a rising sun. He had obviously spied Xanos, for he raised his hand and hailed him in a rather extravagant accent. Xanos did not greet him in return.

"Just the thing Xanos needs to improve his mood: the pestering of some noble brat on an adventure bought with daddy's gold." He crossed his arms in an irritated fashion, but did not move out of sight. It was uncommon enough for Hilltop to have visitors, particularly ones of fine dress, so Xanos decided to wait to meet the rider and discover his purpose in coming.

The rider drew up his reigns and dismounted, coming to stand a stone's throw from Xanos.

"Greetings, good sir. I hope this day finds you well," the man said, and the foppish drawl to his words made Xanos grit his teeth. The man undid the fastenings holding his gilded helmet in place as he approached, then drew it away from his face. He had gold-brown hair in waves to his shoulders, framing handsome and unblemished features. The haircut and accent were new, but Xanos remembered well the face. He saw it often enough in his nightmares. It was Thisden Nightmark, ringleader of the group of boys that had terrorized Xanos in his youth, and one of Xanos' least favorite people in all of Toril.

"Thisden Nightmark," Xanos said, in much the same tone he had used upon finding Hoppy that morning. The man blinked at him.

"Xanos?" he said finally, as the light of recognition came to his eyes. The light quickly darkened. "What in Helm's name are you doing here?"

"Xanos might ask you the same. Shouldn't you be busy snipping the tails of stray dogs and lighting cats on fire?"

Thisden laughed, but his eyes narrowed sharply.

"You're as charming as ever. I'm surprised that the good people of Hilltop haven't yet come to their senses and drummed you out of town like we did."

Xanos bristled. He felt the prickling of magic in his fingertips, like he was holding onto a recently plucked lutestring. For the first time in years he felt dangerously close to losing control of his sorcery– and dangerously close to not caring.

"The good people of Hilltop have recognized the worth of Xanos," he said tightly. "Ask around. You will see that they speak my name with respect."

"Indeed? In that case, I'm sure you can arrange a meeting for me with Master Drogan," Thisden said. He swept a hand though his hair and laughed as if at his own private joke.

"Ha! Not a chance," Xanos said. "Master Drogan is far too busy to waste his time entertaining a pig-headed, stoop-shouldered half-wit like you."

Thisden straightened his shoulders, which were, in truth, rather obnoxiously well-built.

"Much as I'd love to stay and trade hyphenated insults with you, a knight is above such pettiness," he said imperiously. He wiped a speck of dust off of his golden breastplate with his sleeve. Xanos found himself wishing he was wearing something a bit nicer than a homespun tunic and breeches with patched knees.

"I suppose a knight would be above such things," he conceded, then gave Thisden a very long look. "Unfortunately, all Xanos sees is a cowherd with fancy armor and a ridiculous accent."

Apparently, that struck a chord. Thisden turned a bright pink that clashed terribly with his armor.

"How dare you!" he cried. "Insolent oaf!"

"Overdressed clod!" Xanos rejoined.

"Varlet!"

"Saphead!"

"Clotpole!"

"Jackass!"

Thisden slammed the end of his banner into the ground, grabbed Xanos by the shoulders and jerked him forward.

"Swive off, you halfblooded, green-skinned son of a harpy!" he shouted, in his anger reverting back to the accent of Xanos' childhood village. A flock of birds burst into startled flight from the tree overhead. The youth stood, panting, and glared at Xanos.

"Well said," came a voice from the shadows. Thisden, wide-eyed, released his hold on Xanos.

"Show yourself," he commanded, putting his hand to his scabbard. Dorna's squat, familiar form stepped into the light.

"Come, now, there's no need for weapons," she said. "I just came to see what all the yelling was about." She settled comfortably against the tree and smirked. "Feel free to return to insulting each other."

Thisden coughed and raked his hand once more through his hair. When next he spoke, the dreaded accent had returned.

"Perhaps you misheard, my good lady dwarf," he said, flashing a row of perfect white teeth at Dorna. "I was not yelling, I was merely, ah, asking for directions."

"Is that right?" Dorna chuckled. "Seems more like you were giving them, though 'swive off' is not terribly specific."

Xanos allowed himself a moment to enjoy Thisden's awkward search for a response, and found himself with unexpectedly warm feelings towards Dorna. Then, feeling just a bit nauseous, he pushed those disturbing feelings out of the way and returned to insulting Thisden.

"Dorna, allow me to introduce you to Thisden Nightmark, cowherd and irritating prig." He turned to Thisden. "And Thisden, allow me to introduce Dorna Trapspringer, fellow student of Master Drogan."

His words had the desired effect: Thisden's eyes had barely narrowed in anger before they widened in disbelief.

"You?" Thisden sputtered. "You are one of Drogan's chosen students?" He whirled to face Dorna. "Is he speaking the truth?"

"Yes, unfortunately," she answered. Xanos felt the warm feelings evaporate. "He's been here for the longest amount of time after Aurora Dawn."

Thisden frowned and shook his head.

"I had imagined Master Drogan would have higher standards. . . I suppose it is well enough that I became a squire instead of seeking out his tutelage."

"Squire?" Xanos snorted. "I thought you said you were a knight."

For the umpteenth time that afternoon, Thisden turned bright red.

"I'll be a knight soon enough, cur," he said through clenched teeth, "and when I am, I will take particular delight in eradicating your knuckledragging orcish brethren."

"And when Xanos rules his kingdom, perhaps he will be kind enough to give you a position as emptier of royal chamberpots." Xanos cracked his knuckles and took a step towards Thisden.

"Not that I object to watching the two of you beat each other's heads in, but wasn't there some reason for your coming here?" Dorna asked when it became clear that neither man intended to back down.

"Ah, yes, actually. I thank you for reminding me," Thisden said to Dorna. "I have a matter of some importance to discuss with your teacher."

"He's rather indisposed for the time being, but I suppose there's no harm in bringing you up to the house." She looked from Thisden to Xanos. "As long as you're willing to be civil, that is."

Thisden's mouth quirked, but he covered it with a smile.

"I will behave with utmost civility, I assure you," he said.

"See that you do," Dorna said sternly, then pushed away from the tree and started towards the house. "Follow me."

Thisden took up his horse's reigns and fell in step behind her.

"We'll finish this another time," he hissed to Xanos.

"Whenever you're ready," Xanos hissed back.

"Oh, I'm ready. You'll see."

"Not if you see first."

"You'll see double by the time I'm done with you."

"You'll be lucky if you can see at all."

A carefully aimed clod of mud flew right between the two of them before the argument could progress further. Dorna stood waiting with her hands on her hips.

"I don't have all day, children. Are you coming or not?"

* * *

Drogan managed to welcome Thisden with civility, though he was still quite pale. The squire requested a private audience with Drogan, and so the two of them disappeared into the kitchen. Out of respect for their master, Xanos and Dorna waited at least two and a half minutes before crouching at the door to listen.

"You're an old friend of Xanos', are you?" Drogan was asking. Dorna smirked at Xanos, and he made a face at her.

"We do have a history," Thisden answered carefully. "That is not the reason behind my visit, however."

"I suspected as much. You are here on behalf of your benefactor, are you not?" For some reason, there was a heaviness to Drogan's voice.

"In a manner of speaking. I am currently attempting to forge a name for myself through good deeds. According to tavern gossip, several farmers have spied a large wolf in the area. My intent was to rid them of this menace."

"A wolf? There are many wolves in the surrounding forests, and only rarely do they bother the farmers. Surely there are more worthy causes."

"I. . . I suppose," Thisden said, sounding surprised.

"There is a large stronghold of gnolls, not too far from here. If you don't mind my making a suggestion, why not put a dent in their population?"

"It is a fine suggestion. Even so, the innkeeps from which I acquired my information said that this particular wolf seemed to be causing a great deal of fright."

"Very well." There was a rustling of papers. "Have a look at this map, and I'll show you the most likely places a beast like that would hide."

Here the conversation turned quieter, and Dorna and Xanos retreated to the front hall.

"Drogan sounded. . . strange," Xanos said.

"It's probably from breakfast," Dorna said, and shrugged. "Or perhaps he's worried about Aurora. She never came back this morning, after all."

Now that she mentioned it, it had been several days since he'd seen the thatch-haired rogue.

"Perhaps someone hired her to keep the crows out of their cornfield," he said nonchalantly.

Dorna chuckled, then caught herself and gave Xanos a disapproving frown.

Soon after, Drogan was bidding Thisden goodbye at the door. It was cut short when the dwarf had to make an emergency run for the outhouse.

Just then, Mischa came downstairs.

"Poor Master Drogan," she said "I feel just terrible for– " she noticed Thisden and stopped short. She blushed and curtsied.

"Good evening, my lady," Thisden said, smiling and looking at Mischa in such a way that Xanos had a hard time not punching him in the mouth.

"I'm sure you can see yourself out," Xanos said, shutting the door soundly on Thisden before he could say anything more.

"Who was that, Xanos?" Mischa asked, toying with a lock of her hair.

"No one of any importance," he answered briskly. "With any luck he'll never bother coming here again."

Xanos did his best not to notice Mischa's disappointment.

* * *

That night, Xanos had trouble sleeping. The visit from his old enemy brought back all the anger he had felt the day he had been exiled from his home, and then some. He remembered the torches, the angry faces, the shouted epithets. He was a threat, gifted with dangerous powers, and could no longer be tolerated.

He tossed from side to side in his bed, muttering curses, trying without success to shove the memories back where they belonged.

Distraction finally came in the form of the loud sound of glass breaking downstairs. Xanos leapt to his feet to find out what had happened.

He made it halfway down the stairs and stopped. There, crouching among shards of glass from the window and spatters of blood, was the biggest wolf Xanos had ever seen. It was deep black, with immense shoulders and a strangely intelligent set to its features.

Xanos stood, frozen in place, as it looked up at him with eyes of glowing orange.

And then Drogan was there, stepping in between Xanos and the creature.

"Stay back, fiend!" Drogan shouted, brandishing his staff. The wolf-thing laid back its ears and growled. Behind him, Xanos heard footsteps on the stairs.

"Master Drogan?" Mischa asked fearfully.

"Get back to your rooms!" Drogan commanded.

Taking advantage of his distraction, the creature tensed and sprang. Drogan whipped his hand through the air and said a word, and points of green light menaced the wolf like a swarm of hornets. It veered to the side and snapped at its magical tormentors.

"Go. Now."

Xanos needed no further prompting. He fled to his room along with Dorna and Mischa, and slammed the door shut behind them.

"Master Drogan. . ." Mischa said. She sounded as if she were on the verge of tears.

"He'll be fine," Xanos said, feeling an uncomfortable twinge of doubt. "He has been an adventurer for a very long time. A mere wolf cannot best him."

"That was no wolf," Dorna said, and even she sounded shaken.

They fell silent, listening to the sounds from below. There was more shouting, a loud crash, and a howl that made the skin on Xanos' arms break out in gooseflesh. And then, finally, there was silence.

Xanos decided to take a chance and crept back to the stairwell for a look.

"It's safe now, lad," Drogan called up to him. "I've sent it back to where it belongs."

Xanos went downstairs, followed by Mischa and Dorna.

"What was that thing?" Xanos asked.

"It was a barghest, Xanos. A fiendish creature that consumes the souls of its prey." Master Drogan sighed heavily and knelt. "It must have followed Aurora back to the house."

Xanos looked closer, and noticed for the first time the body crumpled on the floor. He could make out a shock of pale blond hair, smeared red with blood.

Drogan placed his hands over Aurora and prayed. She groaned and stirred, but did not wake.

"She's wounded, but she should be fine," he said. "I'm thankful that she managed to make it home in time."

"What a fool!" Xanos cried. "Why did she not simply use the ring to teleport to safety?"

"She couldn't," Dorna said softly, pointing to Aurora's left hand. A moment later, Xanos realized what she meant.

Aurora's pinky and ring finger were gone, each bitten off neatly at the bottom knuckle.

* * *

Aurora was fully healed by the following day, although her two fingers were a permanent loss. Despite the questions of the other students, she refused to say anything about the previous night other than that she had made a mistake and paid for it dearly. At last they grew tired of her long silences and short answers, and went about their normal business.

Xanos was building the fire when he heard Mischa scream. He ran outside, only to find her kneeling on the ground beneath his window, holding in cupped hands a greenish smear wrapped in parchment.

She saw Xanos, and a look of great pity came into her eyes.

"I'm very sorry, Xanos," she said, holding forth the pathetic bundle. "I think somebody murdered Hoppy."

* * *

Next Chapter: Something Finally Happens in Hilltop. Helm's BEARD! It's time for the official campaign to start!

Author's Note: That was long chapter. Thank heavens I took the advice of The Rogue Witch and told work to shove it, or I might never have finished the thing. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, it gives me incentive to write more.

Random sign that I should be institutionalized: While writing this fic, I actually say Xanos' lines aloud. In his accent. While wearing green makeup and a fake mustache. Okay, so I made the last bit up, but now that I think about it, it seems like a pretty cool idea...


	7. Something Finally Happens in Hilltop

Hi everyone! At this point, the story switches focus to the SoU campaign. However, don't expect everything to happen just like it did in-game. For the most part, I have avoided taking dialogue word-for-word from the game, because it is more fun for me, and also because I think it can get boring for the reader. It also increases the flexibility of the storyline, useful once I start inserting non-canonical events into the story. Bwaha.

* * *

Chapter 1: Something Finally Happens in Hilltop

It really wasn't fair.

Mischa chastened herself, aware that such huffy thoughts were hardly befitting of a girl her age, let alone a paladin of Mystra. But knowing that she was being foolish did nothing to alleviate the hurt she was feeling, or the confusion. How could master Drogan have expected her to pass her test? There was no possible way that she could offer aid to an evil creature without compromising her morals. Her teacher was a good and wise man, but in her heart of hearts Mischa sometimes suspected that he did not understand the ways of paladins.

No, it wasn't fair at all.

Mischa's feet felt like they were made out of lead as she climbed the stairs. An itchy, urgent pressure behind her eyes betokened tears in the near future. She blinked them back, promising herself that she would have a good long cry as soon as she was able to let down her guard.

Good fortune had not completely abandoned her, it seemed, for none of the other students were lounging about in the apprentice's quarters this early in the morning. She breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, there was the door to her room. Her own private sanctuary, where she would be free to act as silly and weepy as she wished, without fear of–

"Good morning, Mischa. How was your test?" Dorna asked just behind her.

Mischa squeaked in surprise. She had yet to grow accustomed to Dorna's roguish abilities, particularly her habit of sneaking about and startling innocent people.

"Good morning, Dorna," she answered, forcing a smile. "I trust you slept well?"

Dorna gave Mischa a measured stare, letting her know that she was not going give up on her question just because of a half-hearted attempt to change the subject.

"You know, it's all right if you didn't do as well as you'd hoped on master Drogan's test," the dwarf said. "It's happened to all of us."

Mischa began to protest, but could not think of any way to dispute her words.

"I suppose it is obvious that I failed," she said, feeling her face grow hot. "But in all honesty, I don't think that the test Master Drogan gave me was a fair measure of my abilities. He wanted me to save the life of an evil creature!"

"What sort of evil creature?"

"A- a goblin child. I could not bring myself to do what Master Drogan asked of me." Mischa swallowed hard and found it difficult to look Dorna in the eye, even though she was sure she had done what was right. Thankfully, her fellow apprentice did not reprimand her. Indeed, Dorna did not answer at all, instead raising her hand in a motion warning Mischa to wait.

She watched curiously as Dorna slowly placed her foot against the door to Xanos' room, then gave it a sharp kick. There was a thump and an outraged yelp, and then Xanos yanked open his door, rubbing at a spot on his temple.

"Which thick-skulled savage dared to kick the door of Xanos? Tell me!" he demanded.

"Think of it as instant retribution for eavesdropping," Dorna answered, unconcerned.

"How did you–" Xanos began, then caught himself. "I have no idea what you are speaking of, dwarf." He crossed his arms sulkily. Mischa smiled, managing to restrain a giggle by hiding her mouth with her hand. The half orc saw the movement and gave her an angry glare. Then he smirked in a self-satisfied way that made her dread his next words.

"In any case, one does not need to spy to know that little Mischa could not pass a simple test." He snickered. Mischa wondered if he could keep laughing that way with her boot lodged in his throat.

_Paladins are patient_, she reminded herself.

"Don't worry," Xanos said condescendingly. "At least you have proven to be repeatedly successful at failing." Dorna's reprimand was lost in another round of his abrasive laughter.

"Would you mind speaking a little louder?" Aurora poked her head into the hall, pale hair uncombed and wild. Apparently the last of the apprentices to awaken this morning, she was still clad in the ratty tunic and trousers that served as her nightclothes. "If you're not careful, I might actually be able to go back to sleep."

"Xanos only has one volume," Dorna replied.

"Ah, Aurora! You are just in time to congratulate Mischa." Xanos crossed his arms and grinned at Mischa. "Go on, dear child, tell Drogan's prize pupil how you fared on your test."

"Believe me, I've heard." Aurora rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand. "The strange thing is, I am quite sure I can recall several times when you were unable to complete a task master Drogan assigned you, Xanos."

"Hmmph. Only when they were unworthy of my efforts." His smile faltered just long enough for Mischa to see it. "Xanos would not foul up something so simple as the rescue of a child."

"A _goblin_ child, Xanos! Goblins are evil creatures! A paladin cannot give quarter to something with an evil nature."

"Everything is black or white, isn't it?" Aurora snapped. "Thank the gods your moral dilemmas are less complicated than selecting your hair ribbon in the morning."

Mischa, rarely on the receiving end of Aurora's criticisms, was stung. She had always looked up to Aurora, but the older girl had grown increasingly distant as Mischa had advanced in her studies as a paladin. Still, she had never before said anything so openly contemptuous. The prickling returned to Mischa's eyes with increased vigor.

"There's no need to speak to Mischa that way, Aurora," Dorna said at last. "Nobody cares what Xanos thinks of them, but as master Drogan's eldest student your words carry more weight."

"You lie! The opinion of Xanos is worth six– no, ten of Aurora's!"

"I... You're right, Dorna. I shouldn't have spoken so quickly." Aurora put her hand on Mischa's shoulder. "I'm sorry. My mouth was running while my brain was still half asleep."

"It's– it's all right, Aurora. Maybe master Drogan intended for me to contemplate the moral responsibilities of a paladin." Mischa tried to smile, but couldn't help staring at Aurora's hand there on her shoulder. This close, the scars and the ragged places where the other two fingers used to be were impossible to ignore.

Aurora quickly dropped her hand and hid it behind her back.

"I'm sure you'll learn what he meant you to learn, Mischa. We learn as much from our failures as our successes, right?" she said.

"That is the stupidest bit of claptrap Xanos has ever heard."

"Obviously you don't listen to the idiocy pouring out of your own mouth, Xanos." Dorna chuckled. "Anyway, Aurora, we all know your final test is going to be soon. Do you think you're prepared for it?"

"I hope so." The thin girl shrugged, and even in that small movement her wiry strength was clear. Then again, she was also the only one of the apprentices with absolutely no talent with magic. Mischa, swordarm of the goddess of magic, considered that a terrible loss indeed.

"I think you'll do very well, Aurora," Mischa said brightly, eager to smooth over the earlier unpleasantness. "I have no doubt you will overcome whatever challenge master Drogan sets in your path."

"Or perhaps she will be eaten by a bear," Xanos contributed hopefully.

Aurora stretched and leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes.

"Despite the best efforts of certain people, I'm not all that eager to leave Hilltop just yet. Still, it's exciting to think of roaming the world on my own."

"Xanos must agree. I am eager to forge my path to power, not wile away my precious time in this dull little town."

"Indeed. I wish something exciting would happen here." Dorna sighed.

As if in response, there was a sudden flurry of shouts and crashes from the floor below.

"Master Drogan!" Mischa cried, and willed her ring to transport her to her mentor's side.

She appeared in the front hall to a battle already half over. A dozen kobolds, snarling and armed with swords and crossbows, had somehow broken into Drogan's home. Without hesitation, Mischa launched herself into battle, barely noticing as the other students appeared around her.

She was still wearing her armor and sword from her test. She drove her blade deep into the chest of the nearest kobold. Before she could pull it free, another kobold lunged for her, only to be felled at the last moment by a flurry of magic missiles from Xanos. Mischa slew two more of the creatures and kept another busy until Dorna crushed its skull with her mace. Aurora was facing two kobolds, wielding a broken table leg as a makeshift club. She slammed it into the skull of one of the kobolds with a sickening crack, barely managing to avoid being skewered by the blade of the other. With a swift kick she knocked it backwards into the wall, where Xanos finished it off with a swipe of his dagger.

Mischa whirled about, sword at the ready, but all of the kobolds lay unmoving on the floor. To her horror, master Drogan lay prone as well. There was a strange elven woman at his side. Still somewhat dazed by the unexpected battle, it took Mischa time to realize that the elf was attempting to heal him through magic. Powerful energies swirled through the room, but Drogan did not stir.

"The toxin resists?" the woman cried. "What have they done to you, Drogan?"

Aurora took a step towards the stranger, eyes blazing. Her tunic was spattered with blood.

"Who are you?" she growled. The woman seemed a bit taken aback at the look in Aurora's eyes– or perhaps it was the splintered, gore-smeared piece of wood still gripped tightly in the girl's hands.

"My name is Ayala Windspear. Please be calm, I am here to help you." The woman spread her fingers in a peacemaking gesture. "I have been following this group of kobolds for days. If only I had known they were coming to Hilltop, I might have been able to do something to prevent all of this." She sighed. "But as you can see, I was too late."

"So, you managed to appear just in time for the attack?" Xanos asked incredulously. Mischa could not believe her ears.

"She has tried to heal master Drogan! How could you accuse her this way?"

"Master Drogan isn't any better, Mischa," Dorna said solemnly. "I'd like to know what you're doing here as well, my lady."

"It's understandable that you would be suspicious. Drogan has trained you well." Ayala touched Drogan's face and bowed her head. "There is naught I can do for him at the moment, so I shall take the time to explain myself more thoroughly. I am a Harper, as is your master. We fight to maintain good and prevent the rise of evil, though some label our actions as meddlesome."

"And some people label a duck a duck," Xanos muttered.

"But who would want to hurt master Drogan?" Mischa asked tentatively, unable to keep a vulnerable quaver from her voice.

"I... believe... I can shed some light on that," Drogan said haltingly. The table leg clattered to the floor as Aurora knelt at his side and took his hand.

"Master Drogan! You're awake!" Mischa cried.

"It takes more than a little poison... to slow me down, my girl." The pain in his voice tore at Mischa's heart. He looked up at Ayala with glazed eyes. "They're gone... Every one of the artifacts was stolen..."

"I had feared that to be the case." Ayala turned her gaze to the apprentices. "The Harpers entrusted the care of four potently magical artifacts to Drogan, for they believed Hilltop a safe hiding place. Any one of them carries too much power to be risked to the care of an enemy. But all four at once..." The grave seriousness in her eyes said the rest.

"Aurora... my eldest student. You must find those items and... bring them back." Drogan seemed to be holding onto consciousness by sheer will alone. "It will be... your final test. I know... I know that you will not fail me in this..." His eyes rolled up and closed, and his hand slipped from Aurora's grasp.

"Oh no! Is he...?" Mischa feared the worst.

"He's unconscious," Ayala answered, and Mischa sighed in relief. "I'll have to stay here and do the best I can to keep him alive."

"Where should I start?" Aurora said in a strange, flat voice, her eyes still fixed upon Drogan.

"I would advise you to begin your search in Hilltop and try to pick up the trail of those kobolds. Surely the townspeople can point you in the right direction."

"Yes... Yes, of course." Aurora rolled to her feet and went to the front door. She was halfway through it before Ayala stopped her.

"Wait! I would suggest you stock up on supplies first, and..." Ayala's perfect composure faltered for the first time. "And please, Aurora, get dressed."

Aurora looked down and seemed to notice for the first time that she was still wearing her night clothes. She blinked a few times as if awakening from a stupor.

"Are you all right, Aurora?" Mischa asked gently.

"I'm- I'm fine, now." She shook her head and blinked a final time, and when her eyes opened they were bright and clear.

"I think it would be a good idea to take Dorna or Xanos along to help, although one of them should remain here to guard the school," Ayala said. Mischa felt a twinge of shame at being excluded, but this was not the time to complain. It made sense that master Drogan's more accomplished students should be entrusted with a quest this important.

The sound of Xanos' loud, thickly accented voice startled her. He had been silent for a remarkably long time.

"I will go with you, of course."

"Really? I rather think Aurora would prefer someone competent." Dorna's voice sounded strong and calm despite everything that had happened. Mischa envied her that.

"I assume you mean yourself?" Xanos snorted. "Oh, what an adventure that would be! Two thieves tip-toeing from shadow to shadow and picking one another's pockets! Bah!"

"I really don't think this is the time for bickering," Mischa said quietly. Xanos and Dorna immediately turned on her and glared. Mischa had the momentary image of a pork chop with legs wandering into the lair of two starving wolves.

"It's really none of my concern, but Xanos does have a point," Ayala said, and their attention shifted back to the elf. "Since we're unsure what you're up against, it would be better to have a variety of talents at your disposal."

Mischa waited for Aurora to answer.

"I guess that settles it, then," the rogue said with obvious reluctance. "Do you have any remedies for skull-splitting headaches with you, Ayala?"

"I don't, I'm afraid," the elf answered. "Why, are you feeling unwell?"

"Not yet," Aurora said, and sighed. "Before we charge off into the snow in search of these artifacts, would you mind telling us what we're looking for?"

"Certainly, Aurora. And while we have a moment, let me tell you of a combination of herbs that might relieve Drogan's suffering."

As everyone else discussed the herbs, the artifacts and their importance to the Harpers, Mischa began the long task of cleaning up the mess left from the earlier battle. The blood was already setting into the floorboards, and she knew it would be a trial to remove the stains. She sighed and took the cleaning supplies from the chest in the kitchen.

Eventually, Aurora and Xanos left the house and set off on their grand adventure. Dorna went upstairs to prepare her things in case Aurora had need of her. Ayala kept careful watch over Master Drogan, leaving Mischa with the onerous task of disposing of the dead bodies of a dozen kobolds.

_Paladins are patient..._ She repeated it to herself again and again.

It really wasn't fair.

* * *

Next Chapter: Xanos, the Great and Powerful Zucchini! Piper tries to save the souls of the unbelievers, and Haniah and Xanos have a Very Special Moment(tm).

Author's Note: Oooh, a whole chapter from Mischa's perspective! See, I don't hate her. And Aurora seems to have a bit of an anger problem– I'm sure she and Xanos will get along just peachy. The chapter that comes after this is actually pretty much finished, so I could probably have it up in a few days with a little encouragement (hint hint, any potential reviewers lurking out there.)


	8. Xanos, Great and Powerful Zucchini!

Chapter 2- Xanos, The Great and Powerful Zucchini!

After the toasty warmth of Drogan's front hall, the frozen air outside was like a slap in the face. Xanos was wearing a wool cloak, but had been otherwise forced to trade warm clothing for ease of movement. An icy wind worked its way into every gap between his robes and his skin, and snowflakes swirled about his head and stuck to his eyelashes.

Snow crunched under his boots like glass, loud and irritating in the winter silence. He knew from experience that slogging through the snow would make him tired twice as quickly. Why couldn't the kobolds have waited until spring to attack?

Aurora looked less than comfortable striding through the snow in her leather armor, the clinking of the two swords on her belt keeping cold rhythm with their steps. Xanos thought it rather silly that the girl persisted in carrying about two weapons when it was clear she could use no more than one at a time– now it would only get in the way and perhaps get them killed. He shook his head. Vanity could be a dangerous fault, and Xanos was glad it was not one of his own.

"Xanos, look," Aurora whispered. She was pointing down at the ground, where several reptilian tracks could be seen. Xanos gasped loudly.

"Whaat? Kobolds? In _Hilltop_?" With a sweeping gesture he indicated the rest of Drogan's property, where dozens of tracks just like the ones to which she was pointing marred the snow. "So what?"

"Notice how they are facing toward the door to the barn? And how there are no tracks leading away?" Aurora unsheathed a sword as she spoke. "Now, I'm no ranger, but I think I can figure out what that means."

Aurora punctuated her sentence with a sharp kick to the barn door. It swung open, revealing a pair of kobolds with daggers at the ready.

Before this could fully register in Xanos' mind, he was performing the gestures and speaking the words to send a ray of frost into the body of one of the kobolds. The other beast jumped back in surprise, and Aurora used its moment of inattention to sever its spinal cord with a quick thrust of her shortsword.

"That was very reckless," Xanos admonished. "I was under the impression that you rogues prided yourselves on stealth and trickery."

"I figured that the time for stealth was past when you started shouting and waving your arms around," Aurora said flatly.

Xanos frowned.

"I was merely creating a distraction so that you could sneak around and come through the back door, simpleton."

Aurora raised an eyebrow.

"The barn doesn't have a back door, Xanos."

A long moment passed in which no more was said. Both students stared at one another. Finally, Xanos looked away.

"Yes, well, you cannot blame me for bad architectural design," he muttered. "Haven't we wasted enough time here?"

She shrugged, and moments later they resumed their journey into Hilltop.

They soon learned that the town had received no better treatment than the school.

Bright patches of blood marred the snow, pooling around the bodies of kobolds and villagers alike. It was still and quiet, and the only ones not barricaded indoors were harried guardsmen on the lookout for a second attack. Several cottages were still smoking.

They passed what had been a carefully tended garden of winter squash, now trampled flat. A single boot, probably belonging to the gardener, lay amongst the broken plants. Xanos felt an unfamiliar heaviness in the pit of his stomach and turned away.

"I never thought that something like this would happen here . . . " Aurora whispered. "We should have been able to protect them."

"Those kobolds will answer to my wrath. Have no doubt of that."

Her eyes met his own sidelong.

"I thought you despised the people here."

Xanos considered his answer.

"Yes, at first. But over the years they have proven . . . tolerable." She looked as though she were about to say something, but he spoke quickly to stave off her questions. "It does not matter. We will find the artifacts for Drogan, and exact what revenge we are able upon the way." He strode ahead of her, but he could feel her inquisitive gaze lingering on his back.

There were no more words between them as they walked to the Herbalist's shop, where they were most likely to find the three ingredients of Drogan's cure. Aurora reached for the doorhandle, paused, then lowered her hand to her side.

"Well?" Xanos prompted. "Hurry up and go inside! Xanos tires of this damnable cold!"

Aurora looked away.

"It's just . . . Bethsheva always looks like she's itching to sink her teeth into me," she mumbled.

"What? Farghan's wolf?" He laughed. "I would hate to think that you would rather let Drogan die than get dirty looks from a stupid animal!"

Aurora gave him a dirty look of her own and went inside.

"Ahh, Aurora, is it?" Farghan glanced up from his work, which was apparently separating small green leaves from other, slightly smaller green leaves. Xanos was of the personal opinion that most druids were about as smart as the trees they spent all day hugging.

"It's good to see you're unharmed," Farghan continued. "A nasty business with these kobolds."

"Yes. Very nasty. Ah, are Bethsheva's ears usually plastered back against her head like that?" Aurora was pressed against the wall, as far away as possible from the large she-wolf that bristled and growled at her. Farghan stroked the animal's head affectionately.

"Don't worry. She's just worked up after all the fighting." Behind the man's gentle, bland expression, there was a fleeting glimpse of something cool and appraising. Apparently, Bethsheva's dislike of the girl caused him more concern than he was letting on.

"Master Drogan has been poisoned," Xanos said, when it was clear that Aurora was too busy fretting about the angry canine to state the reason they had come. "We need charcoal, helmthorn berries, and tressym tongue. You do have these, yes?"

Farghan looked chagrined.

"The charcoal and tressym tongue I have, but I sold the last of my helmthorn berries to Mara at the Bubbling Cauldron a week ago."

"Wonderful," Xanos said in a voice heavily laced with sarcasm. "Well, Farghan, you have at least proven partially useful. That is more than can be said for most of your kind."

Farghan frowned, but located the necessary herbs. When Xanos reached for them, however, the druid grasped his wrist.

"You'll have to learn respect one day, Xanos," he said. " And something tells me it won't be an easy lesson."

Xanos jerked away from the druid's hand.

"You know nothing of Xanos, fool," the half-orc said brusquely, and pocketed the herbs. Bethsheva's grows intensified, but Xanos ignored the animal and strode to the door.

"To the tavern, then, my scrawny companion," he said to Aurora. "Let us leave the herbalist to his prancing and flower-sniffing."

Aurora hastily followed Xanos outside, shutting the door soundly on Bethsheva's final growl.

"I've never seen Bethsheva act like that toward anyone else," she said as they approached the Community Hall. "I wonder what it is about me that sets her off?"

"Perhaps she is simply a good judge of character," Xanos answered offhandedly. "Or maybe she wants to finish off the rest of your hand."

"Hey, I have an idea," Aurora said lightly. "Why don't you check in on everyone at the Hall while I get the berries from Mara and try to choke down the burning desire to stab you?"

Xanos snorted, but couldn't help but notice how her hand hovered over the hilt of her sword.

"Very well. While you play fetch and carry, Xanos will question the locals for important information."

Aurora turned, shaking her head, and left for the Bubbling Cauldron.

Somehow, most of the population of Hilltop had managed to cram themselves into the Hall. Some lay groaning on pallets, but most simply milled about with dull, cow-eyed expressions. At the far end of the building, the mayor sat, attended by Haniah, his pretty half-elf assistant.

It seemed that Hilltop's foremost politician had decided that the appropriate reaction to a surprise attack on the town was to get rip-roaring drunk. He tipped unsteadily in his seat, only just managing not to fall out of the chair altogether. Xanos shook his head.

"What a fool. If Xanos was in charge, this attack would never have happened in the first place."

Haniah noticed him and sighed.

"I was hoping Drogan would send at least one of you to help out, but I have to question his judgment in picking _you_."

Xanos scowled.

"Hmmph. Your obvious lack of taste aside, it's not nice to question the decisions of a man on his death bed."

His words had the appropriate reaction. Haniah's eyes flew wide.

"Master Drogan is hurt? Oh no!" she cried.

"Servesh 'im right for not helpin' out more durin' the fight," the mayor slurred. "Fanshypantsh wizard, all tucked away'n 'is houshe while thoshe monsters deshtroyed my town."

"Hush, sir! That's a terrible thing to say!" Haniah shook her head. "This is awful. I was counting on Drogan to help fix some of what's gone wrong since the attack."

Xanos puffed out his chest.

"Who needs the old dwarf when Xanos is here?" he said. "I could solve your little problems before you could even think of a suitable way to reward me!"

"I hope you're not implying what I think you are," Haniah said. Xanos feigned innocence, and after a moment she continued. "But if you're really serious about helping out, you could try to talk Piper out of frightening the townsfolk with his babble about his 'new god.' I'm having enough trouble trying to keep everyone calm as it is."

Xanos had had the misfortune of encountering Piper before. The lunatic had spouted something about a new deity that would cleanse the world with suffering, followed with a garbled prediction that Xanos would be eaten by a white dragon. It should be simple enough to deal with the likes of him.

"Very well," he said. "Xanos will return triumphant!"

As he walked away, the mayor began to babble once again.

"He'sh awfully mouthy for a zacchi– a zacchu– zuccho– "

"Zucchini, sir?"

"Yeah, one of thoshe."

"That was Xanos, sir. Not a zucchini."

"Ha ha! You alwaysh were a kidder, Haniah. Now be a good girl and go get me shome more wine."

"I'd like to see him confuse me with a vegetable while I cast a ray of frost into his face," Xanos muttered as he stepped into the cold air once more.

His target was easy enough to find. Xanos simply followed the shouts of 'repent!' and 'unbeliever!' until he reached a small cluster of townspeople near the Bubbling Cauldron. Piper, a bent old man with wild hair and bulging eyes, stood at the center.

"The new god speaks through me, all ye who dare to listen! He shall blaze through your sins with a fiery flame of– of burning! And when He arrives, all who have not cast themselves before His mercy shall fall in a torrent of blood and . . . meaty chunks!" Piper pointed at a nearby onlooker, who gasped. "Chunks, I say! Repent!"

Xanos pushed his way through the crowd until he stood directly in front of Piper.

"Fool old man! Why do you not simply wander off into the snow and save us all your senseless ravings?"

For a second, the Piper simply looked put out at being interrupted. Then the zealous gleam came into his eyes again, and he grinned.

"Oh ho ho ho! The new god has a special end set aside for you, he does!" He did a stiff, arthritic sort of jig as he spoke, waving his arms about excitedly.

"Yes, yes, Xanos shall be eaten by a white dragon. How very grandiose."

Piper slowly shook his head, grinning crookedly.

"Your fate has changed, arrogant one. I see a wolf! A giant wolf with eyes like embers and dripping jaws, gnawing on your fat, green head!"

Several members of the crowd gasped. Others laughed.

There was very little in the world that Xanos hated more than being laughed at.

"Do you foresee Xanos cutting a hole in the ice and holding your head underwater?" he asked, taking a step closer to the man.

"Uh . . . " Piper swallowed hard "I don't see that, no."

"That's strange, because I'm– " Xanos stopped mid-sentence at a sudden bout of shouting from the inside the tavern. Cursing under his breath, he went to see what could possibly be the matter.

__Inside the Bubbling Cauldron, Xanos was met with a chaotic scene. An angry mob had gathered at the far end of the tavern, ranting and cursing at a barricade in front of the kitchen door. Lodar, the tavern master, was comforting the sobbing Mara.

"What is going on?" Xanos called out over the din. Mara raised her tear-stained face from Lodar's sleeve.

"Oh, it's t-terrible!" she sobbed. "Those horrid little monsters were h-holding me hostage in the kitchen, and Aurora talked them into t-taking her instead!" Lodar stroked her hair and nodded.

"She's inside right now. It was brave, what she did, but I hope she knows what she's doing."

"Ha! Even Aurora would not be stupid enough to trade her life for that of a simple tavern wench," Xanos said. At this, Mara made a choked noise and soaked Lodar's already dripping sleeve with fresh tears.

Sounds of movement behind the barricade brought all conversation and shouting to a sudden halt. Between the stacked furniture and boards, Xanos caught a glimpse of Aurora's white-blonde hair.

"You tells them! Yip!" The speaker was obviously a kobold.

"I will, if you can stop poking me with your sword for one second," Aurora hissed back, then continued in a much louder voice. "Attention angry mob! The kobolds are about to remove the barrier. They will then leave the tavern, and Hilltop. They have no intention of hurting anyone. Also, if anyone attacks them, they will immediately release a number of crossbow bolts aimed at my vital organs. Needless to say, I would prefer you let them pass unmolested."

"What? What does she mean unmolested? Those little buggers burned down my house!" one member of the mob complained.

"Would just a couple of bolts be so bad?" another whispered. "Folk've got lots of organs after all." This earned him more than a few strange looks. "Argh, she did say vital organs though, didn't she? Damn!"

"And also, the kobolds warn you not to try anything tricky. Because . . . " Aurora faltered, until a chorus of yips urged her on. "Because kobolds are very smart," she finished lamely. Apparently, even being menaced with crossbows was not enough to make Aurora say the last bit convincingly.

"Smarter than human adventurers, obviously," Xanos said, loud enough to be heard through the barricade.

"Xanos? You're out there too?" Aurora sounded surprised, as well as slightly embarrassed. There was a scrabble of clawed feet on floorboards, and a tiny red eye peeked out at the mob.

"What? You have friend here now? Grr, yip! He hurts kobolds, you turn into big, um . . . dead thingy, okays?"

"Do not worry, little lizards," Xanos said contemptuously. "Aurora and I are hardly friends."

"Um, kobolds not have time for relationship counseling. We going now, yip!"

There was a wave of primitive magical energy, and the barricade exploded. Many in the mob covered their eyes. Mara screamed. From the cloud of dust and splinters emerged a kobold, holding a rope in one hand and a sword in the other. He tugged on the rope, and Aurora stumbled forward, flanked by a guard of several more kobolds. Xanos and the others stood back as they passed by, and true to their word, the kobolds aimed their crossbows nowhere but at Aurora.

As soon as the kobolds and their hostage made it outside, the mob rushed as one to the door. Xanos got there first.

"Weren't you paying attention? Stand back!" he shouted, though he himself leaned out to watch their progress.

"There! Do you see?" Piper shouted. "Even the friends of the blasphemer shall suffer on his behalf! Watch and be warned, as the monsters tear the girl limb from bloody limb!"

When the kobolds reached the west gate, the leader looped the end of the rope around one of the gate posts. Then the little creatures darted through the gate and ran like their tails were on fire.

"Runs away!" one cried.

Piper looked profoundly disappointed.

"Well, erm, they were about to, weren't they?" His fervor returned quickly. "Is not even the threat of dismemberment enough to make the wicked change their ways? Witness the mercy of the new god!"

As the old man babbled, Xanos ran to Aurora's side.

"Thanks for standing up for me in there," she said coolly.

"Certainly. Xanos does what he can." He raised his dagger to cut through the ropes about her wrists, but she slipped her hands free before he had the chance.

"What?" he thundered, awe-struck. "You could have escaped at any time! You could have killed them all yourself before they knew what was happening!"

Aurora grabbed his arm and turned him away from the crowd of onlookers.

"I didn't want to kill them," she said in a hushed whisper. "It's hard to explain, but when there's only a few of them like that, they're sort of . . . pitiful."

"Fine. But explain to Xanos what massive brain failure persuaded you to put yourself in that situation in the first place."

"If I hadn't done anything, they would have killed Mara."

"And what a shame that would be! Wherever would the Bubbling Cauldron find another mediocre cook?" Xanos scoffed and crossed his arms. "Recovering the artifacts is much more important than the fate of a single girl."

Aurora gave him an incredulous look.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're a cold-hearted bastard?" she asked.

"Certainly. But I think clearly, and that is what matters."

The rest of the tavern mob caught up to them quickly. Some congratulated Aurora, others chastised her for letting the kobolds get away. Lodar gave her a moderately sized moneypouch. Mara pulled the skinny rogue into a bone-crushing hug.

"Oh, Aurora, thank you!" she cried. "I thought I was dead for certain!"

"I'm glad they didn't hurt you, Mara." Aurora quickly extricated herself from the embrace, seeming less at ease now than when she had been playing hostage. "But if you happen to have some helmthorn berries left, I need to take them to master Drogan."

"It'll take me a moment to find them, but I'll be right back." Mara impulsively stood on tiptoe and kissed Aurora on the cheek. "Be careful out there, won't you?" she said, then scurried back to the tavern.

Aurora, grimacing, cut Xanos off before he even opened his mouth.

"Keep it to yourself. I don't want to hear it."

"That is too bad, as Xanos speaks when he sees fit." He drew himself up to his full height and regarded her sternly. "Despite your huffiness, Xanos suspects that you are pleased with the result of your first little adventure out from under Drogan's thumb. I hope that all of this does not go to your head and encourage you to be stupid and reckless in the future."

"That's a valid concern," Aurora said, nodding solemnly. "I got into adventuring for fame, riches, and women, after all." She laughed shortly. "Did it ever occur to you that I'm not, well, you?"

Xanos shuddered.

"There are things that even Xanos must be thankful for." He looked over his shoulder to see that Piper was preaching with increased vigor. "Now, if you can avoid getting yourself into a ridiculously dangerous situation for just a few minutes, I have a task to complete."

Xanos pushed himself to the front of the crowd once more, this time with Aurora on his heels.

"A ha! Have you returned to proclaim your desire to follow the new god?" Piper cried.

"Hmm . . . " Xanos tugged at his mustache and made a show of considering his answer. "Actually, Xanos is more in the mood to rip off your arms and legs and beat you to death with them."Piper blanched visibly.

"Your grasp of subtlety is astounding," Aurora murmured.

The old man looked at the crowd, at Xanos, and particularly at the muscles in Xanos' arms. The half-orc flexed, and Piper flinched.

"Well, I've wasted more than enough effort trying to show these people the light," he said, taking a few steps toward the gate. "I think it's time to move on to somewhere new. Greener pastures, and all that."

Once he was out of arms' reach of Xanos, he turned and ran as fast as his bony legs could carry him.

"He's an old man," Aurora said, staring after the retreating figure. "Don't you think you could have shown him a little compassion?"

"Like the compassion he had for your little predicament?" Xanos retorted.

"Hmm . . . Good point."

Mara returned then, and handed a cloth-wrapped bundle to Aurora. The rogue took it and hurriedly retreated before Mara could express any further gratitude.

Back in the Community Hall, the mayor had accomplished the impossible and somehow become even more drunk than before. He was now sprawled across his chair, singing an off-color ballad about a licentious housemaid named Rosy Bottom, heedless of Haniah's frantic attempts to shut him up.

Xanos stood before Haniah, crossed his arms over his chest, and smirked.

"Piper is no longer a problem," he announced.

Haniah scrutinized his hands and dagger.

"Seeing as there is no blood, I assume you dealt with him in a more diplomatic manner," she said with some surprise.

Aurora chuckled, and Xanos stomped on her foot.

"Thank you, Xanos," Haniah continued. "Here's a bit of gold as a reward. I'm sorry we don't have more, but as you know, the town is in a bit of trouble right now."

Xanos took the bag of money, then waited. Haniah's brow furrowed.

"What is it?" she asked at last.

"The old fool was particularly vexing, you know. Does Xanos not deserve a greater reward?"

"But I already told you, that money is all that we can– "

"Xanos was not speaking of gold."

"Well, what kind of reward are you talking about?" Haniah's voice sounded rather peculiar. A man better versed in social niceties might have recognized this peculiarity as seething rage.

Unfortunately, Xanos was not that man.

"Perhaps the mayor's song can give you a few ideas," he said helpfully.

Xanos barely had time to recognize the object hurtling toward his nose as a fist before it connected with the force of a charging dragon.

"Nice shot," he heard Aurora comment from somewhere far above, and then everything went black.

* * *

Next Chapter: Aurora Receives a Prediction. Xanos encounters his natural enemy: halflings!

* * *

Edit: Fixed some really stupid mistakes. Teaches me to write at 3am. And while I'm here . . .

Penname wa Silver B- I wouldn't hurt Deekin for the world. I can't say as much for Xanos, though. ;) But I guarantee the little guy can give as good as he gets.

The Rogue Witch- You make my head swell! And you write good fanfiction! How cool is that?

qadsjlkahsdf and J.P. - Thanks for the reviews! My day was made.

Everyone else- Come on, folks, review! Xanos thrives on praise!


	9. Aurora Receives A Prediction

Chapter 3- Aurora Receives A Prediction

Dorna sat on the arm of master Drogan's favorite chair, polishing her left boot. She had been consumed with the task for nearly a quarter of an hour, ever since she had finished gathering and preparing her equipment.

Drogan still lay on the floor where he had fallen. Ayala had refused Dorna's offers to move him somewhere more comfortable, reasoning that until the effects of the poison were nullified it would be best not to jostle the poor dwarf about. Dorna was not pleased about leaving her master's welfare to a stranger, but Ayala seemed to be doing a fine enough job of it. Still, Dorna watched the weak rise and fall of Drogan's chest and felt as if a cool hand clutched at her belly.

Mischa flitted from place to place with the aimless direction of a butterfly, pausing here and there to dab at something with a dustrag or place one of Drogan's knickknacks back where it belonged. Dorna knew that the girl's nervous energy was her way of responding to shock, just as focusing on simple tasks like getting her gear in order kept Dorna from dealing fully with everything that had happened that morning. Even so, the muttering and ceaseless moving about was quickly wearing on her nerves.

"Sit down, Mischa, you're making me dizzy," she said, rather more bluntly than she had intended. Mischa flushed pink and gave Dorna a sad sort of smile.

"I'm sorry. I suppose dusting the mantle shelf isn't helping anything just now, is it?" She set down her dusting cloth and sat at the window across the room from Dorna. She stared out at the falling snow, and when next she spoke her voice was soft and thoughtful. "But that's the problem, isn't it? There's nothing we can do to help."

Although Mischa was a paladin in training, Dorna was still caught off guard whenever the girl said something insightful.

"Indeed. You've found the crux of it," she replied, and set about attacking the spotless leather of her boots with renewed vigor.

"Don't feel as though you have no place in this undertaking," Ayala said, dabbing at Drogan's face and throat with a cool rag. "None of us can know if the school will suffer a second attack. And beyond that, if Aurora and Xanos are unsuccessful in their attempts to recover the artifacts, the task will fall to the two of you. "

Mischa flinched at the words. Dorna was unsure if it was the thought of the responsibility that frightened her, or the unspoken ramifications of Aurora and Xanos "failing." Surely the girl had realized by now that this was not one of Drogan's training exercises. It was a simple truth: in a real adventure, sometimes people died.

Apparently, Mischa's train of though was clear to Ayala as well.

"Don't worry, Mischa," the elf said in soothing tones. "They have been well trained. And should one of them be badly hurt, I am certain that Drogan's rings will protect them."

"I understand," Mischa said, raising her chin. "I. . . I'm not a child, you know."

"No," Ayala said, and smiled. "You're Drogan's apprentice, and that is something worthy of pride."

Dorna's ears caught a faint sound. She sat forward, catching the attention of Mischa and Ayala.

"Do you hear that?" she said.

Ayala listened, then nodded. A moment later, it was loud enough that even Mischa could hear. Far off, but coming nearer, Dorna could make out the familiar sound of Xanos' voice. As usual, he seemed to be complaining.

"Xanos must once again rebuke you for your poor judgement, Aurora! Surely there was some way to get me out of range of that madwoman's wrath without dragging me by the ankles!"

Aurora's answer was too quiet to be heard. Xanos' gasp of rage, however, was perfectly audible.

"How dare you imply such a thing!" he shouted. "Xanos is no plumper than he is meant to be!" He sounded close now, and Dorna could hear the sounds of two pairs of boots crunching in the snow as well.

Moments later the door opened, and Aurora and Xanos entered the front hall. The half-orc was holding a handkerchief to his nose, which had already dribbled blood down the front of his shirt. Beneath each eye was a darkening crescent bruise.

Mischa gasped.

"Xanos! What happened to your nose?" she asked.

"That is none of your business, little girl," he said, glaring down at her over the handkerchief. "Xanos has merely learned that certain women are prone to unprovoked acts of violence."

"I think Haniah is likely to disagree with your definition of 'unprovoked,'" Aurora said.

Dorna snickered, more than able to imagine the provocation in question.

"Xanos does not recall requesting your assessment of the situation, scarecrow girl," Xanos said. "And your laughter is ill-timed and unappreciated, dwarf."

In response, Dorna only laughed harder.

"Fine. Laugh if you wish," he said, and then added in a lower voice, "Xanos knows you mock him only to cover your jealousy of his superior facial hair."

Dorna stopped laughing abruptly as the fall of an executioner's axe.

"Leave the beard out of this, half-orc."

"In any case," Ayala said loudly, "the two of you came back here for some reason, didn't you?"

"Yes. We've found the herbs you need." Aurora reached into her belt pouch and took out a cluster of berries, to which Xanos added a lump of charcoal and an oddly shaped plant. Ayala took them, arranged them in a silver bowl above Drogan's head, and cast a spell.

"There," the elf said when the incantation was complete, "he should rest much easier now. Thank you, Aurora. And you as well, Xanos," she added in response to his indignant snort.

Aurora knelt and grasped Drogan's slack fingers for a moment, then stood.

"Take care of him," she said softly, before going back out into the snow.

"Now, Harper," Xanos said as the door closed, "will you stop wasting time and heal me?"

"Very well," Ayala said with forced evenness, and cast a spell. The bruises beneath the half-orc's eyes faded and disappeared. Xanos lowered the handkerchief, revealing a nose that, while still quite ugly in Dorna's opinion, was no longer bleeding. "There you are," Ayala said. "Now, shouldn't you catch up with Aurora before she gets too far ahead?"

Dorna restrained herself from laughing. Apparently, even the rigorous training of a Harper was no match for Xanos' grating personality. Xanos, however, failed to notice the thinly-veiled hint.

"Certainly," he said. "The gods only know what sort of trouble she could get into without Xanos' guidance and protection." With an unnecessary flourish of his woolen cloak, he turned to leave, only to be stopped by Mischa at the door.

"Xanos, wait," she said. The large half-orc glared down at the pretty girl with the peculiar mixture of dislike and fascination he reserved just for her. Mischa lifted his hand and placed something on his palm. Dorna craned her neck, and could just make out a pair of focus crystals.

"Take these," Mischa said, closing Xanos' fingers around them. "I hope they keep you and Aurora safe."

The imperious expression on Xanos' face slackened into one of dumbfounded surprise.

"Xanos is certain he will have no need of such things," he said with only a fraction of his usual gusto. "But . . . I thank you for the thought, nonetheless." Hastily tucking the crystals into his pocket, he left.

Dorna chuckled.

"Well done, Mischa," she said. "You surprised the arrogance right out of him, for once."

The girl looked away.

"Nonsense. It was simply something I thought I should do."

Still smiling, Dorna looked down at Drogan. Color was reappearing in his pallid cheeks, and his chest rose and fell more deeply. Nearby, Ayala was rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands.

"Everything all right, my lady?" Dorna asked her.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," the Harper answered. "I'm merely trying to come to terms with the fact that the recovery of the artifacts lies in the hands of those two . . ." She took a deep breath, held it, and released it slowly. "Drogan must have selected them for a reason, however. And speaking of Drogan, why don't you two help me get him upstairs to bed?"

As she kneeled to help lift her master, Dorna felt some of the tension within her relax. Who knew what lay ahead of her fellow students in their search for the artifacts? Despite their faults, Drogan's apprentices would do the best they were able. For now, at least, it was enough to know that Drogan would be all right.

* * *

There was nothing but uneasy silence between Xanos and Aurora as they walked back through Hilltop. Xanos had decided that there was no pressing reason for Aurora to learn of Mischa's gift, which now rested securely in his deepest pocket. The thought of the earnest concern in Mischa's eyes as she had looked up at him gave him a warm and prickly sort of feeling that was as pleasant as it was unfamiliar.

With effort, Xanos forced himself to concentrate on his current circumstances.

Aurora moved at a brisk pace that Xanos, to his utmost displeasure, had to jog to match. Her mouth was set in a determined line, eyes narrow and somber.

"This so-called adventure is a waste of Xanos' precious time!" he said, tiring of both the silence and her expression. "This is little more than running Drogan's errands for him. Soon, Xanos will embark on his grand search for wealth and power!"

Aurora half-shrugged and said nothing. A minute or so later, as the two of them reached the gate leading out of Hilltop, he tried again.

"If there was any justice in the world, Xanos would be the one in charge of this little outing," he said. "But as master Drogan's pet apprentice, I suppose you think that you should be holding the reins?"

This time, Aurora at least glanced in his direction.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"I am warning you not to make the mistake of ordering me about as if I were a lowly henchman!"

"How would you like me to order you about, then?" Neither Aurora's eyes or voice betrayed the slightest hint of sarcasm.

"You test my patience!" Xanos puffed up his chest and stood as straight as he could, taking full advantage of the inch or two he was taller than Aurora. "Xanos will not be told what to do by an incompetent, dull-minded, scrawny little girl with a big mouth!"

"Fine." Aurora crossed her arms. "What do you suggest we do next, then?"

"Truly? You will do as Xanos says?" he said cautiously, then realized that he had just won the argument. "Of course you will! Xanos was born to lead!" he shouted, brandishing his dagger proudly. Aurora ducked out of the way.

"Yes, well, stabbing me in the face is not a good way of establishing my confidence in your leadership skills." She sighed. "Now calm down. I said I'd listen to your suggestions, not get down on my knees and swear fealty. But if you start making a mess of things, I'm taking back the 'reins,' Xanos."

"Ha! When the time comes, we shall see who ends up rescuing who, Aurora. Or who ends up leaving a certain arrogant wench to clean up her own messes, more likely."

"Yes, we'll certainly see."

Xanos was on the edge of replying with another insult, but stopped himself. In time, she would come to accept that he was simply better suited to lead than she was, but until then, he would have to be careful not to make her too angry. Not angry enough to try to take control from him, at least. This was going to be an interesting test of his abilities, to be sure...

Aurora waved her hand in front of his eyes.

"Sorry to interrupt your blank staring, but weren't you going to tell me your suggestion?"

"Of course! We will, ah..." He cast his eyes about until they found the scuffed tracks still visible in the snow. "We will follow the tracks the kobolds left until we catch up with them!"

"And then?"

"And then..." He drew a blank. "Xanos will reveal the rest of his brilliant plan to you as necessary. Now fall in line, we have thieves to catch!"

Muttering something under her breath, Aurora followed him through the gate.

The tracks led them on for about a hundred yards, until the path split in two. Xanos peered with growing irritation at the muddle of tracks that continued out of sight in both directions.

"What now?" Aurora asked. "I hope you're not going to suggest we split up."

"Of course not! You would die in a moment without Xanos to protect you. I will simply determine the path that the kobolds we are looking for would have taken. Those of us with superior intelligence have ways of deducing such things." He turned away and reached into his pocket.

"Those ways of yours wouldn't happen to involve flipping a coin, would they?" Aurora asked. Xanos returned the gold piece to his pocket with a muffled grunt. Thinking quickly, he dropped to one knee and poked at one of the footprints in the snow.

"Quiet," he said. "Xanos must concentrate as he inspects these tracks more closely."

"You do that. I'm going to talk to the people in that caravan over there." She pointed. Xanos could just make out the brightly colored fabric of a wagon over the crest of the hill. "Maybe they can tell us a little about the kobolds that went their way."

"That goes without saying," Xanos grumbled, but after a moment he got up and followed after her.

As they neared the caravan, it became quite clear that its owners were well acquainted with the kobolds that had menaced Hilltop. Several halflings lay unmoving on blankets, watched over by others with swords.

"Hello, there," one of the watchers called as they approached. "Looking for something?"

"What can you tell me of the kobolds that attacked you?" Xanos asked as Aurora went to speak with a female who was tending to the wounded. The small man put a thoughtful finger to his chin.

"Well, they didn't have a very pleasant demeanor, for one. Terrible manners, what with the stabbing and the thievery and all."

Xanos scowled. None of this could be easy, could it?

"Very clever, little man. How about a straight answer, now, before Xanos does some stabbing of his own?"

"Fine, fine, but the name's Torias. A group of the little lizards surprised our camp, here, wounded some of our boys, and made off with most of our supplies. That straight enough for you, friend?"

"Yes, yes, but where did they go after that? Xanos must know, quickly!"

The halfling craned his neck to see behind the half-orc.

"Er, where is this Xanos fellow, anyway? He sounds like a brute."

"Idiot! I am Xanos!"

Torias gave him a very strange look, followed by the same uneasy smile people wore when Piper ranted at them about his god.

Aurora chose that moment to join the conversation, arriving just in time to prevent Xanos from popping Torias' head off of his body like a cork.

"Well now, who's this?" Torias grinned up at the girl.

"I'm Aurora. You're Torias, aren't you?"

"Indeed I am." He winked. "What could I have done to get a pretty girl like yourself asking after me?"

Xanos waited for Aurora to run Torias through with her swords, or at least slap him across the face. For some reason, she only looked away quickly, ran her good hand through her cropped blonde hair and hid the other in a fold in her trousers.

"Katriana said you followed the kobolds after they attacked," she continued, stuttering slightly. "Would you mind telling us where they went?"

"I'd be pleased as pie." Torias winked again. "I chased them until they holed up in a big farm north of here. For all I know, they're still inside."

"You didn't keep after them once they hid themselves?" Aurora asked.

"Sorry to disappoint, m'lady, but I wasn't about to go tromping inside all by myself. I came back here to make sure everyone was safe, and here I stayed."

Xanos laughed derisively.

"You were too much of a coward to finish them off yourself. Why is Xanos unsurprised?"

Torias rocked back on his heels and gave Xanos a brief once-over.

"Well, some of us don't need to run about killing things with big swords to make up for what we're lacking, if you catch my meaning." He shook his head gravely. "Terribly sad when one of the big 'uns comes up short."

"Halfling. . . boiling water. . . pointy stick . . ." Xanos sputtered incoherently. He felt a tug on his wrist and realized Aurora was literally dragging him away. He allowed himself a final fist-shake at the halfling as Aurora said goodbye.

"Thanks for the information, Torias. Maybe we'll bump into each other again sometime."

"I can only hope you mean that literally, m'lady." He waved. "Have fun out there."

As they took the path north, Xanos calmed down enough to notice something interesting.

"Are you blushing, Aurora? Ha! You are!" Xanos snickered. "Over a halfling, no less! But someone like you has to take what she can get, yes?"

A blush that had been barely visible deepened to crimson.

"I must have missed the part of your life where half-nude maidens flung themselves into your lap," she muttered.

He frowned.

"Bah. The pockmarked farmer's daughters of Hilltop are rightly aware of their unworthiness to warm the lap of Xanos!"

"And I suppose Haniah was just too intimidated by your natural charm and bulgy muscles to admit her undying love?"

She started to walk backwards as she talked, managing, to his utmost disappointment, to avoid tripping over anything.

"Xanos does not care for what you are implying, girl." He flexed and gave his arms an appraising glance. "My muscles are rather bulgy, though, now that you mention it."

"And covered in beast-hair."

"Aurora!" He pointed a finger at her accusingly. "Have you been spying on Xanos as he bathes?"

With a cry, she flung her arm across her eyes.

"I don't think my brain will ever be clean again," she groaned.

Xanos saw the snapping bowstring and ducked in time, but Aurora, eyes covered, back turned to the assailant, was not so lucky. When Xanos looked up, the arrow had already drawn a vivid red slash across her cheek.

He launched himself forward, but the kobold archer, standing in the doorway of an old farm house, simply ducked inside and closed the door.

"Hold on," Aurora said through gritted teeth. Blood was welling from her wound, but it seemed more painful than truly dangerous. "Let me check it out first."

She stepped into the shadow of a nearby tree and disappeared from sight. Soon after, he saw the slightest movement next to the farmhouse and knew that she was looking into the windows.

When she had finished, she moved back into the sunlight and waved Xanos over.

"I think they're downstairs," she said. "If we move quickly, we can probably trap them in the basement. It will be easier to kill them in a confined area."

"It will be easier for them to kill us as well," Xanos reminded her. Even so, no alternate plan came to mind.

Together, they charged through the front door, down the stairs, and into the basement. The size of the room made it difficult for the kobolds to maneuver their crossbows, giving Drogan's students the advantage. The fight was over before Xanos had even worked up a decent sweat. He glanced around at the myriad barrels, jars, and sacks that littered the floor.

"If we're lucky, they hid the artifacts somewhere in here," he said, upending the first sack. He was rewarded with nothing more than withered potatoes. Aurora began to search as well, and after a time they had looked nearly everywhere with no results. Finally, Xanos opened the last remaining barrel and reached inside. At the very bottom, his fingers brushed something that felt quite different from an onion or a radish. "Aha! I've found something!"

Aurora looked on eagerly, but what he pulled from the barrel turned out to be nothing more than a deck of tattered, ornately decorated cards.

"Oh. . ." Aurora said, the hope fading in her eyes. "I think Katriana mentioned something about a missing deck of cards."

"Wonderful," Xanos said without enthusiasm. "The artifacts of unknown power remain unaccounted for, but at least a group of scruffy halfling Vistani will have their playing cards." He fanned the cards and picked one at random, then took a closer look as something caught his eye.

The card was hand painted, depicting a tall structure of brick being struck by a bolt of lightning from the heavens.

The Tower.

Without realizing it, Xanos must have spoken the name aloud.

"What did you say?" Aurora asked, leaning in to peer at the card.

"These are no ordinary playing cards," he explained with some reluctance. "They are tools with which someone can attempt to divine the future." He straightened the deck and covered the images with his hands, hoping Aurora would pester him no further.

It was not to be.

"You recognized one of the cards by name," she said. "Have you ever used them before?"

Xanos considered denying it outright. The amount of time he had wasted on the damnable cards in his youth was not exactly something he was proud of. Yet there was something about the way she was watching him, a certain canniness to her gaze that made it very difficult to lie.

"Maybe. . ." he admitted cautiously.

Aurora didn't laugh, or even smirk, as he had feared she might. Instead, she only nodded slowly.

"That's interesting."

"What's so interesting about it?" Xanos snapped. It had been stupid of him to allow the conversation to progress this far at all. Information was a risky thing, only to be shared with those you could trust implicitly. And Aurora, with her unreadable expression and sharp edged words, certainly didn't fit that description.

"I never imagined you being uncertain of the future," she said. And then, softly, "did the cards help?"

"That is none of your business!" he shouted. With a growl, Xanos flung the deck at Aurora's feet. The cards scattered around her in a riot of shape and color. Xanos watched them fall and felt the rage slowly drain away. When next he addressed her, it was in a much calmer tone. "Here is a prediction for you, Aurora: meddle in things which do not concern you, and you will quickly discovery the peril of being on the bad side of Xanos Messarmos."

Throughout his outburst, Aurora had remained as still as stone. Now, to his surprise, the corners of her mouth lifted ever so slightly into a smile.

"Does that mean I've been on your good side all this time?" she said, then put out her hands to ward away another bout of harsh words. "Xanos, relax. If I had known if would bother you so much I wouldn't have said anything. I'll give your past a wide berth from now on. Let's just forget about it and get back to finding the artifacts, okay?" With that, she knelt and began gathering the fallen cards together.

After a moment of deliberation, Xanos did the same.

* * *

**If you liked it, if you hated it, even if it just made you say "eh," please leave a review and let me know!**

Next Chapter: 'The Claw that Rocks the Cradle.' Sometimes, just knowing you tried your best isn't enough.

Author's Note: I would have gotten this chapter posted a lot sooner if my laptop hadn't suddenly decided it didn't feel like turning on anymore. I blame Mephistopheles.

I'd like to thank angelic-ky for reading over this chapter before I submitted it. I recommend reading her story, "Shadows and Darkness."

And in case anyone thinks I'm way offbase with Xanos' familiarity with the tarot cards, remember that he not only recognized Daschnaya's Tower card during the reading, he defined what it symbolized. ;)


	10. The Claw that Rocks the Cradle

Chapter 4: The Claw that Rocks the Cradle

Daschnaya pulled her brightly-patterned scarves more tightly about her shoulders. The cold in this part of the world was something she could never get used to, no matter how many times she was forced to endure it. It was a chill that cut right to the bone, making every ache in her poor old body twice as painful as usual.

There was one thing that ached more than all the rest, and that was the loss of her precious cards. They had been handed down from mother to daughter for ages, a tradition even older than the trading route they followed every year.

Still, there was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that the loss of the cards would not be permanent. Things had a way of working themselves out, after all. For now, she would wait, bundled into her scarves and blankets, and do her best to nap.

It seemed she had scarcely shut her eyes when there was a knock at her caravan door.Daschnaya sat up, yawning.

"Come in," she called out in a voice made thin by sleep. The door opened, and a half-orc climbed into the wagon, stooping to avoid knocking his head against the low ceiling. After him came a human girl.

"What has brought you to Daschnaya's wagon?" the halfling said once the door was closed behind them. The girl came forward and knelt, reaching into her pack.

"We found these," she said, laying the cards on the table before Daschnaya. The halfling smiled and ran her hands lovingly across the cards.

"Thank you, dear," she said. "You must be Aurora."

"Yes," the girl answered, clearly surprised.

"And you are Xanos, her obnoxious half-orc friend." The halfling smiled at Xanos, earning a scowl in return.

"Yes, yes," he said. "I'm sure we are all very impressed by your abilities, you old prune."

That particular information had been procured not through the arts, but because of the conversation Daschnaya had overheard earlier. Still, it never hurt to keep an air of mystery about one's self, particularly if one was a fortune teller.

"The quest you have undertaken is a difficult one, but it is good to know that you are willing to take the time to help others along the way," she said to the pair. "Seeing these cards again gladdens Daschnaya's old heart so."

"Wonderful. That and a gold piece will buy Xanos a mug of ale at the Bubbling Cauldron."

"It was really no trouble," Aurora said, shaking her head. The movement swung the hair away from her face, and Daschnaya saw the bloody slash on her cheek.

"You're been hurt," the halfling said. Aurora started to protest, but Daschnaya said a few words in a singsong voice and touched the wound. It closed almost instantly. "You see?" she said, grinning. "These old fingers hold some magic still. And now that I have my cards again, I could give you a reading if you wish."

"You want to tell my future?" Aurora asked. Daschnaya could sense the trepidation behind her words and wondered at its cause. Most girls her age were eager to see what the cards could reveal.

"Whatever small part of the tapestry I can see, I can share with you," Daschnaya said encouragingly.

Aurora was silent for a long time. She seemed to be engaged in some sort of internal debate, the subject of which Daschnaya could only sense bits and pieces. There was curiosity in Aurora's thoughts, along with faint undertones of hope and, strangely, fear.

"No," the girl said finally. "Thank you, but no. The future has no hold on me."

Daschnaya nodded, for this was the answer she expected.

"But what of the past, my girl?" she asked. "Can you dismiss its hold as easily?"

Aurora looked up sharply, anger flashing in her eyes.

"Give the reading to Xanos," she said curtly. "I'll wait outside." With that, she left the wagon. Daschnaya did not call after her.

With Aurora gone, Daschnaya and Xanos were left alone in the wagon. The half-orc stared at her for a moment, then sat cross-legged in front of her and shrugged.

"Very well," he said. "Xanos might as well see what your little cards say of his grand destiny."

With a small grin, Daschnaya shuffled the cards. When she was finished, she placed the first card face up on the table. The card was upside down, depicting a man, brow wreathed in laurels, riding upon the back of a grand stallion.

"This first card depicts the crux of the matter," Daschnaya said, tracing the edge of the card with a worn finger. "This is the six of staves. It is triumph, power achieved. And yet it is reversed. There is something impeding your progress, my friend."

Xanos' ears pricked up immediately, and Daschnaya knew she had chosen the right words to peak his interest. She laid another card crosswise across the first. This one showed a blindfolded woman crossing her hands tightly over her heart.

"The two of blades," she said. "There is something you are avoiding, friend. You keep you true feelings and emotions well hidden, and it is holding you back." She stared thoughtfully at the two cards on the table. "Perhaps we should have a look at what is causing this, yes?"

The third card was placed beneath the others. The woman on this card was blindfolded as well, but her bondage did not seem self-inflicted. Her hands were tied behind her back, and she stood imprisoned in a field of swords. Daschnaya saw Xanos shiver when he looked upon it.

"The eight of blades reveals much," she said, brow crinkled in concern. "There was a time when you felt helpless, was there not? You were a victim, trapped and unsure where to turn."

Xanos swallowed hard, and Daschnaya felt a twinge of pity for the half-orc. He had lived a hard life, of that she was certain.

"Go on," Xanos urged. Daschnaya nodded and laid out two more cards, one to the left and one to the right. One depicted a man lying broken on the floor, impaled by countless swords. Noticing the expression on Xanos' face, she tapped the card and chuckled.

"You will be glad to know that this in an influence that will fade from your life in times ahead. You may feel as if you have been to the very depths of misery. You see life itself as a hostile force. But remember: when you have reached the bottom, there is nowhere to go but up. In days ahead you will find yourself overcoming your past feelings of antagonization and hopelessness." She moved her hand to the other card she had dealt, one whose face was filled with the painting of a bright, chaotic wheel. "Your life shall take a spin on the wheel of fortune soon, very soon. It is a card of destiny, a turning point in your life; it is a card of travel."

She paused, giving him a chance to take in her words before continuing. It was important that he hear what she had to say next.

"You seek power, that much is very clear. But there is another possible outcome of all of this, another goal which you may not yet have acknowledged."

Daschnaya dealt the next card at the top of the arrangement. It shimmered in the wavering light of the candles, an eight-pointed star edged lovingly in gold leaf.

"The Star," she said, and smiled. "If you find the star, you shall regain hope and find a long-sought peace. A goal worth considering, is it not?" She gazed at him steadily. Xanos did not look away.

"I shall not be swayed from my path, old woman. Peaceful resolution is no match for the comfort that true power can provide."

The old halfling chuckled to cover her disappointment.

"I suppose it is just a part of who you are, Xanos. Speaking of which. . ." She dealt another card, this one separate from the main spread. "This card is you."

"That card. . . Xanos recognizes it. The Knight of Staves." He grinned. "Xanos is a man with confidence, passion, and a thirst for adventure."

"Yes," Daschnaya said reasonably. "Or, looking at it another way, you are egocentric, hot-tempered, and reckless. It is all a matter of interpretation, after all."

His grin faded.

"You, of course, are the central figure in this destiny of yours," she continued. "But others always play a part. One, in particular, will have impact upon you." Another card went below the first. It showed a man glancing furtively over his shoulder, carrying a burden of heavy swords.

"The seven of blades is a furtive card. He is concealing something shameful, running away rather than confronting it. All this he seeks to hide beneath a veil of aloofness and isolation. He is, as they say, a lone wolf." Daschnaya steepled her hands. "I cannot say if he will aid or hinder you, only that you should seek to recognize him as in some way vital to the transformation that lies ahead."

Xanos crinkled his brow, obviously thinking hard, but after a moment he motioned for her to hurry up.

"And now, the final card," she said. "The final outcome of everything else we have seen." She placed the card on the table with her hand atop it, then revealed it slowly. "Judgement. A day of reckoning awaits. With it comes the opportunity to take a stand, to be reborn. And in the end, perhaps, absolution?"

At those words, Xanos stood, grinning.

"You have confirmed what Xanos has known all along," he said. "Farewell, tiny woman, I have a destiny to claim!"

"Wait!" she called out before he reached the door. "There is one more thing."

Xanos paused and looked back at her over his shoulder.

"Yes? What is it?"

Daschnaya collected her cards, then stared him straight in the eye.

"A little politeness would go a long way for you, Xanos. Remember that, if nothing else."

"Ha! Keep your preaching to yourself, old woman. Xanos does not accept advice from mummies."

He left, closing the door behind him.

Alone, Daschnaya shook her head and settled back into her blankets. She sincerely hoped that his bluster and bellowing would help him in the hard times to come, for the cards had been clear in their message. Soon, Xanos was to be tested. Would his trials teach him the folly of the path he now followed before it was too late? That, Daschnaya thought with a smile, was something even the cards could not reveal.

* * *

Aurora sat on the steps that led up to Daschnaya's wagon as she waited for Xanos. She was rather ashamed of the way she had snapped at the old woman, who had offered to read her future out of nothing but kindness, but the glint of uncanny knowledge in the halfling's eyes was far too similar to one Aurora had seen many years before. And the memories of the fortune she had received back then were anything but fond.

Even now, she could remember well the feeling of the old woman's papery hands on her own, the milky blue eyes peering out of the white face with a strange intensity, the smirk of the knifeslash mouth as she told Aurora what the future held. . .

Xanos' heavy footfalls shook the steps, and Aurora stood to meet him, glad for the interruption.

"How was the reading?" she asked.

"It was nothing special," he said dismissively, though the way he avoided her eyes as he said it suggested otherwise. "And we've wasted more than enough time here. Let's go."

The kobold tracks that passed by the caravan had led them nowhere. They turned now to follow the ones that led the other direction into the hills and forests.

"Aurora," Xanos said as they walked, "why did you not wish to have your fortune read? You could have heard all the depressing details of your imminent spinsterhood."

That comment stung a little, not that Aurora was about to admit it.

"I don't like the concept of fate," she said honestly. "If everything is predetermined, then there is no such thing as free will."

"But the future is rarely so straightforward as you suggest. There are many outcomes, and many paths to choose along the way." Xanos tugged at his mustache, deep in thought. Aurora had assumed he had brought up the topic for no reason other than to insult her, but he seemed to actually want to have a conversation.

"Perhaps you're right," she said carefully, wondering how long the discussion could last before deteriorating into yet another argument. "But I have heard some prophecies that don't exactly leave a lot of room for choice."

"It is all in how you look at it, Aurora. For instance, someday soon Xanos will achieve true power. This is a simple fact. But will I become worshiped and feared because such a fate was written in the stars, or because I have striven for it and crushed all obstacles in my path? Which is the cause, and which the effect?"

Aurora smiled.

"I think I see your point. And it works well enough for the kind of prediction that someone _wants_ to fulfil." Her smile faltered. "But what about the kind of prophecies that someone would do their best to prevent coming true?" Rather to her own surprise, Aurora was quite curious about what Xanos would say.

She never had the chance to find out. A woman's scream pierced the air from somewhere just

ahead, and without a word the two of them rushed to find its source.

They reached a small farmhouse, in front of which was a woman named Nora Blake. She was still screaming, though when she saw Xanos and Aurora her wordless shrieks became cries for help.

"What happened, Nora?" Aurora asked breathlessly when they reached her.

"Oh, thank the gods you're here!" Nora cried. "We were attacked by kobolds. Adam and I managed to escape, but little Tynan was still inside! Adam's gone back in to save him, but he hasn't come out again yet! Please, make sure nothing has happened to him!"

Aurora nodded.

"Stay here, Nora. We'll go see what's going on."

Xanos followed her to the door of the farmhouse.

"Do we really have time for this?" he asked as she slowly pushed open the door and walked inside. "We can't stop to help every single person who has gotten themselves into. . ."

His sentence trailed away when he got a good look at what was inside the house, but Aurora didn't notice. She was too preoccupied by the sight of the torn body of Nora's husband lying motionless on the floor. She knelt at put her fingers to Adam's throat, but there was no pulse to find.

"Poor Adam," she said, closing his staring eyes. Poor Nora, she added mentally. She wanted to do more, but the thin cry of an infant from upstairs reminded her that Adam wasn't the only one they were supposed to save.

In the room at the top of the stairs, she was met with another horrifying sight. Tynan was there, and alive, but he was in the scaly arms of a kobold. The lizard-like beast bared his teeth when he saw Aurora and Xanos, and motioned at the infant's throat with his dagger.

"Stay back! Me gots child!"

"Put the knife down," Aurora said in as calm a voice as she could muster. "Just leave the baby be and we'll have no reason to hurt you."

"Ha! You tries to trick me, but me no is stupid, yip! You wants baby, you gives me shiny."

"A. . . shiny?" Aurora said blankly, then realized what the kobold meant. "You want a gem? Okay. Here." She reached into her pack, then pulled her empty hand out in a fist. The ruse worked; the kobold's eyes gleamed as she took a step nearer, holding her fist out in front of her. He reached for it, loosening his grip on Tynan for just a moment, and Aurora seized her chance.

Quick as a hawk, she snatched the baby from the kobold's arms and flung herself back out of harm's way. The kobold growled and snapped its teeth.

"Stupid human!" it shouted. "Now me have to kill you!" It rushed her, but Xanos was faster. With an enraged growl, he seized the little beast by the neck and lifted it from the floor. The dagger fell from its hands as it writhed in his grip. He reared back, then hurled the kobold as hard as he could through the window.

Seeing as the window wasn't open, that was very bad news for the creature. It fell through the air in a shower of glass, landing with an audible thump on the ground below. Aurora waited until Xanos' chest stopped heaving and his rage disappated, then got to her feet.

"Thank you, Xanos," she said. Tynan was crying, so she held him close to her chest and comforted him as best she could. She felt good about rescuing the child, but any pride she felt in that drained away as they returned to the lower floor and once more beheld Adam's corpse. Aurora lingered there, trying to think of something she could do to help, putting off the inevitable moment when she would have to inform Nora of the fate of her husband.

"You're wasting your time, Aurora," Xanos said, and although the words were unkind his voice was grave. "There's nothing we can do for him." Nodding, she went outside to face Nora.

"I saw what happened to that kobold, did you– oh, you found Tynan!" Nora took the baby from Aurora and stroked his cheek, tears of relief streaming down her face. "Oh, my precious little boy, how I feared for you. . ." Then she tensed and looked sharply up at Aurora. "Adam isn't with you. Is he. . .? Oh, please don't tell me I'm a widow!"

"Nora," Aurora said softly, "Adam is dead."

"No! Not my Adam! Not my husband!" The horrified disbelief in Nora's eyes cut Aurora to the quick, and she tried hard to swallow back the lump rising in her throat.

"I'm sorry, Nora," she said. "We were too late."

The woman visibly fought to regain control of herself, and when she spoke again her voice was remarkably calm.

"Forgive me, Aurora. I don't mean to sound ungrateful for what you've done today." She wiped away her tears with her free hand and tried to smile. "Thanks to the two of you I've got my house, and my child, and if I sell my wedding ring I'm sure we'll have enough gold to survive until I can find a job."

Aurora took out the pouch of gold Lodar had given her and handed it to Nora.

"Here. Take it. Keep the ring to remember Adam by."

Nora opened the pouch and peered inside, then looked up with a shocked expression.

"But there must be at least fifty gold pieces in here! You've done enough for me already, I couldn't possibly take. . ." she trailed off as Xanos pressed another twenty pieces into her palm. "I cannot believe that anyone could be so generous," she said, wide-eyed. "Thank you, both of you! Rest assured that Tynan will be raised to know who his saviors were. I'll never forget what you've done for me this day." She looked towards the house, and her eyes clouded. "Please, don't waste any more of your time on me. I. . . I must attend to my husband."

Aurora and Xanos left her, turning back to the trail of footprints in the snow. Aurora found herself staring at Xanos. She had been just as surprised as Nora at the half-orc's uncharacteristic generosity. Xanos noticed her attention and scowled.

"What?" he snapped.

"Nothing," she said, turning her attention back to the trail. Even so, she found herself wondering if Xanos was really as cruel and selfish as he seemed.

* * *

Author's Note: I always thought the whole Save My Family quest was pretty sad. Especially since if you talk to Nora about Adam later, she'll tell you that she's doing okay, but she still misses _Thomas_. ;) How many dead husbands does the woman have??  Thanks to RogueWitch, Penname Wa Silver B (Author of the awesome Dependence: Heartsinger), and SnackFiend101 for their reviews of the last chapter. Xanos is glad to know he is appreciated. Of course, he's know that all along. :P 


	11. Seeing Red

I'd like to thank Xuki, Essence Silverdragon, Steve, Penname wa Silver B, and snackfiend101 for their reviews, as well as Guan, who reviewed every single chapter! I just about had a heart attack when I received all of the review notices! You guys make writing this instead of studying for midterms all worthwhile. ;)

* * *

Chapter 5- Seeing Red

The kobold tracks led away from the flat, snowy fields and into hilly, tree-covered lands. Xanos was not much for forests, particularly forests full of low-slung tree branches that dumped snow and pine needles on his head if he so much as brushed against them. Each time a new batch of snow slipped down the back of his collar, Xanos gave serious thought to setting the entire forest on fire. More vexing still was that it never seemed to happen to Aurora, even though she made no visible effort to avoid contact with the branches.

When the girl paused to take a drink from her canteen, Xanos could not help but notice that the branches directly above her head were heavily laden with snow. He leaned his back against the trunk of the tree, then peered with great interest at the ground in front of her boots.

"What's that in the snow?" he asked.

Aurora lowered the canteen from her lips and glanced at the snow at her feet. Then, just as Xanos had hoped, she leaned down to have a closer look.

Seizing the moment of her inattention, Xanos rammed his foot into the trunk behind him, landing a heavy blow that set the entire tree to trembling. The branches shifted and let fall their burden of snow, right above the unsuspecting rogue.

Aurora launched herself nimbly into the air, turning a full flip before landing on her feet as the snow fell harmlessly to the forest floor behind her.

"Show off," Xanos grumbled under his breath.

He watched his fellow student as she smoothed her pale hair behind her ears and returned her canteen to its place in her pack. She wasn't even out of breath . . . But of course she wasn't. She was Drogan's pet, wasn't she? His perfect, shining example, incapable of wrongdoing.

The object of his unkind thoughts finished fussing with her equipment and approached him.

"Nice try," she said. "Too bad I'm naturally suspicious of you."

It was a poor choice of words. Xanos felt a prickling from old scars that had very little to do with the girl standing before him. Always, his parentage would haunt him, would be the touchstone from which all of his actions were judged, allowing people to form their contemptuous opinions before he ever spoke a word.

"Ah, so now the truth comes out." Xanos pinned Aurora with a scornful glare. "Your hatred of Xanos stems from prejudice toward his mixed blood."

"That's ridiculous," she said, either unaware of just how angry he had become, or untroubled by it. "I don't dislike you because of your orcish heritage." Her wide mouth curved in a slow, deliberate smile. "I dislike you because you're a pretentious jackass."

"Nonsense!" Xanos roared, and her smile vanished. "You've felt nothing but spite since the moment you set eyes upon me!"

Aurora answered his heated accusation with puzzled silence. Off to his left, Xanos heard the soft, rhythmic crunching of snow, something that might have garnered his attention if he wasn't preoccupied.

"Surely you have not forgotten the way you behaved toward me the very first time we met," he said, and watched as realization slowly dawned upon her.

"Xanos, I was hardly more than a child." There was a rare earnestness to her voice. "Until you came, it had just been me and master Drogan. Our relationship was the only special thing I had." She lowered her gaze self-consciously, and Xanos had the feeling that she had spoken with more candor than she had intended.

"That does not excuse your actions," he said, his words reproachful but lacking the venom of moments before. "At the very least, you should have apologized."

Aurora raised her chin, a challenge in her gray eyes. "I tried."

Now that he thought about it, Xanos did remember her approaching him with something vaguely reminiscent of an apology . . .

"Bah," he said, feeling abruptly and unexpectedly sheepish. "Most likely you did so only to encourage master Drogan's belief in your perfection."

"My perfection?" Her laughter was sharp and mocking. "Looks like I'm not the only one with a jealous streak."

"What?! Xanos, jealous of you? How utterly amusing!" He gestured theatrically at the sky, where the sun was nearing its apex. "Is the glorious sun jealous of the pale moon trailing in its wake across the heavens? Is the mighty river jealous of the tiny boat paddling along its shores? Is the . . . "

He stopped short when a man blinked into existence less than a yard from his left shoulder. The man was bald, dark of complection, and clad in robes so red it almost stung to look at them. Noticing their stunned stares, he cleared his throat and flashed an apologetic smile.

"Terribly sorry to interrupt," he said in a cultured, thickly accented voice. "But honestly, if I had been forced to listen to one more flowery metaphor . . ." He shook his head. "I will not say exactly what I would have done, but rest assured it would have involved multiple fireball spells."

Aurora drew her sword and gave it a menacing flourish in the stranger's direction.

"What is a Thayvian doing in the Silver Marches?" she asked sharply. The man raised an eyebrow at her display but made no other movements.

"Being threatened, at the moment," he said blandly. "I suppose it was too much to hope that you would not have inherited your father's prejudices, Aurora Dawn."

Aurora's sword twitched in her grip. "Did someone sew a name tag into my armor? That's the second time in half an hour that someone I've never seen before has plucked my name out of thin air." Her tone was glacial, her posture rigid. "And you'll refrain from mentioning my father again if you don't want me sheathing this sword in your chest cavity."

"Quiet, girl!" Xanos hissed, appalled by the vehemence of her reaction. "This wizard of Thay has chosen to speak with us for a reason, and I intend to hear what it is!"

The bald man turned to him.

"I'm glad to see that one of you, at least, is acquainted with the basics of polite exchange." His smile was charming but somehow reptilian. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Szaren, and I am here on behalf of Lady Dmitra Flass, Tharchion of Eltabbar." He clasped his hands together and bowed politely, offering Xanos a glimpse of the intricate tattoos that decorated his pate. "And you are Xanos Messarmos, unless my sources are mistaken?"

"Your sources are correct." Xanos grinned. "Xanos is glad to hear that his fame precedes him."

"Indeed it does. Many people were willing to speak of you, though what they said was often less than flattering."

Xanos' grin disappeared.

"By saying that, I intend no disrespect," Szaren continued. "As a Thayvian, I am intimately acquainted with the inconveniences of a poor reputation. Speaking of which . . ." He made another, smaller bow to Aurora, paying no mind to the sword still pointed at his sternum. "I fear the two of us started out on the wrong foot, my lady."

"Don't call me that," she snapped.

"Very well . . . Aurora, then. I did not wish to frighten or insult you with my words. In Thay, it is a foolish man indeed who does not learn as much as he can about his friends, as well as his enemies. I sought out the two of you in hopes that we might discuss a bit of business, nothing more."

"Business?" Xanos' mind began to race. "Put your weapon away, Aurora! This could be a lucrative opportunity."

Aurora lowered her sword but did not sheathe it, keeping her eyes on Szaren the entire time. The Thayvian grinned and clapped his hands together.

"There we are!" he said. "I don't know about the two of you, but I'm already beginning to feel all warm and fuzzy. Of course, I could be having an allergic reaction to the putrid slop you people call 'food,' but I prefer to take it as a sign that the three of us will soon become the best of friends."

"About that business you mentioned . . ." Xanos prompted.

"Not much for small talk, are you?" Amusement flashed in Szaren's dark eyes. "As I said before, I am here on behalf of Lady Dmitra Flass. My good mistress has had some success in the creation of small mercantile enclaves throughout Faerun. These enclaves sell a wide variety of magic items to anyone with enough gold to purchase them. The cities that take advantage of this opportunity receive the wealth and protection that Thayvian interest provides, and in return, Lady Flass gains gold and prestige."

"A fine deal, but . . . why would you come to Hilltop, of all places?" Xanos would be surprised if anyone but Drogan himself could afford all but the most basic of magic items.

"Larger cities in the area have been . . . less than welcoming. It was our hope to demonstrate our goodwill in a small village like Hilltop in order to gain their trust."

"What does this have to do with us?" Aurora asked. The fingers of her maimed hand were drumming against her leg, a staccato manifestation of her unease. "It sounds like this is a matter between you and Mayor Shuttlescomb."

"It should have been, but your mayor and his assistant were even more suspicious of my motives than you are." At that, Szaren's grin dimmed. "By the end of our meeting he had left his guards with explicit instructions of what to do if they caught me lingering anywhere near Hilltop. Suffice it to say that most of them would be impossible to carry out while my limbs are in their current configuration."

"That certainly explains why you were invisible earlier," Xanos said, his words coming quickly in his growing excitement. His ascent to power could be so much easier with the right allies . . . "How can Xanos help you?"

Szaren laughed. "Your eager attitude is refreshing, my friend. It is no wonder that the people of this village speak of you both as if you were seasoned adventurers, and not merely untried apprentices." His amusement was seamlessly replaced by businesslike austerity. "Indeed, it was my hope that, being so well known and respected among your townspeople, you might plead my case before the mayor."

Xanos felt as if a rug had been pulled out from under his feet. Changing the mayor's mind would mean speaking with Haniah, and Xanos had a feeling that the mayor's assistant would be even less pleased to see Xanos than a Red Wizard of Thay.

"Er . . . Aurora?" he asked hopefully, turning to his fellow student with pleading eyes.

"No," she said at once, underlining her refusal with a forceful shake of her head. "We don't have time. Every moment we spend chatting here, the artifacts are getting farther and farther away."

"Artifacts?" Szaren's brows quirked. "What kind of artifacts are you speaking of, my la– Aurora?"

Once again, the girl looked as though she wished she hadn't been quite so forthcoming.

"The kind that needs to be retrieved as quickly as possible," she said vaguely, then rushed on. "Finishing this quest on behalf of master Drogan is more important to me than doing you or Xanos a favor."

Xanos put his head in his hands in dismay, but Szaren simply nodded thoughtfully.

"I see," he said.

"Good." Aurora seemed relieved. "Come on, Xanos." She started to back away, but Szaren was not yet ready to give up.

"There is no reason that we cannot still broker a deal."

Grimacing as though she had just stepped in something particularly nasty, Aurora checked her progress.

"How do you mean?" she asked warily.

Szaren's expression as he stared back at the rogue was devoid of mirth or pretense, and Xanos sensed that the man was grasping at straws.

"If I aid you in the recovery of these artifacts of yours," the Thayvian said slowly, "will you speak to the Mayor on my behalf?"

"But that could take days!" Xanos protested before he could stop himself. Szaren nodded thoughtfully.

"How does this strike you?" Echoing Xanos' earlier gesture, Szaren pointed up at the gray sky. "It is currently nearly midday. If I pledge my services to you for the remainder of this day and tonight, will you agree to speak to the Mayor in the morning?"

Aurora's eyes grew wide. "You're joking, aren't you? You can't possibly mean that you'd face unknown dangers in return for my promise to _attempt_ to convince Shuttlescomb to let you stay."

"Indeed, it is not a deal I would make unless prompted by desperation. But I would rather face your unknown dangers than the certain one of returning to Lady Flass empty handed."

Aurora took her time in answering, and Xanos sensed that she was combing over Szaren's words in search of hidden snares. Finally, her shoulders fell, and she shook her head as if unable to believe the decision at which she herself had arrived.

"Fine," she said. "Do your best to help us, and I'll do my best to help you."

Szaren chuckled. "Perfect. I think that, in time, you will come to realize that it is you who have received the lion's share of benefit from our association. A Red Wizard rarely binds himself to the cause of another."

Aurora sighed, finally sliding her sword back into place. "Any stray bolts of lightning or the like, and the deal is off. Even if it only hits Xanos."

"Oh, Aurora, I'm touched," Xanos exclaimed, placing his hand across his heart.

"You needn't concern yourself," Szaren said. "I assure you that any harm I cause will be deliberate." The Thayvian's teeth flashed, white as the snow. "And carefully aimed."

"I fear I'm going to regret this in the morning," Aurora said softly, turning back to the trail they had been following. "Assuming I live through tonight."

Xanos and Szaren fell in behind her, keeping pace with one another and allowing the rogue to range a dozen meters or so ahead.

"You must pardon Aurora," Xanos said, taking no particular care to ensure that his fellow student could not overhear him. "She is lacking in subtlety, wit, and refinement, but she does have a certain amount of skill when it comes to cutting purse strings or skulking about in shadows."

Szaren favored Xanos with a sly grin. "It bodes well that you recognize others both by their faults and by their potential uses. You have a shrewd instinct toward the accumulation of power, but only through practice are such skills honed."

Xanos felt an unaccustomed rush of pride at the Red Wizard's words. Praise was rare, encouragement of his ambitions, rarer still.

"Any advice you wish to give Xanos would not fall upon deaf ears," he said, careful not to sound _too_ eager.

"Is that so?" Szaren asked, giving his words just enough of an edge that Xanos could tell his surprise was feigned. "In that case, I encourage you to increase your competency in the art of manipulation."

"Eh? What do you mean by that? Xanos gets his way often enough."

"Getting your way is well and good, but fettering another to your will . . ." Szaren gazed off into the middle distance as if caught in a pleasant memory. "Ah, that is something truly worth the effort."

Xanos turned the words over in his mind, intrigued but uncomfortable about the implications.

"Need Xanos remind you that slavery is heavily frowned upon in this part of the world?" he asked, carefully keeping his tone neutral.

Szaren laughed, and Xanos joined in, not sure what was so amusing but unwilling to risk offending the Red Wizard.

"I was not referring to slavery, my friend. At least, not in so many words." Again the man's gaze wandered. "Anyone can be controlled. You need only to find the proper strings and pull them." His eyes narrowed, and Xanos realized with a start that Szaren was staring not at the wintry landscape but at Aurora. The glare lasted only a moment before it was replaced by a genial smile. "We shall continue this conversation at another time. For now, it seems that our young thief has come across a traveler."

The man Aurora was speaking with was dressed in light clothing and appeared to disregard the chill wind with the easy indifference of one long accustomed to such weather. As the two magic users approached, the man swivelled to face them, one hand going for his bow even as the other raised in greeting.

"Good day, travelers. Please, take a moment to share my fire." At close range, it was easy to see the elongated ears and delicate features that proclaimed the man's elven heritage, and the hard look that he was giving Xanos and Szaren. "But I warn you now, I shall tolerate no untoward acts in my presence."

"And I shall not tolerate a second aspersion upon my character," Szaren responded lightly.

The stranger curled his fingers around his bow, and the wizard pushed back the sleeves of his robe. Neither man nor elf seemed willing to back down, and the tension might have escalated to actual violence had Aurora not intervened.

"Thank you for your hospitality," she said, stepping between them on her way to the campfire. After a long moment, during which Xanos frantically calculated the number of magic missiles he could create by the time the elf had knocked an arrow to his bow, the others relented and followed.

"I regret that I have little else to share but conversation," the elf said, crouching near the flames. "But even that is welcome enough. I did not expect to encounter other souls braving the cold." He nodded cordially to others sharing his fire. "My name is Farren Valientheart."

"I am Xanos Messarmos, and this is my assistant, Aurora," he said before Aurora had the chance, paying no mind to the glower his words earned. "And you have already met Szaren."

The Red Wizard chuckled.

"We came here in search of a band of kobolds," Aurora said swiftly, before any harsh words could be exchanged.

Ferran put his hand to his chin thoughtfully. "In that case, I'm afraid you may be too late."

Xanos and Aurora shared a dismayed glance across the fire.

"A short time ago, I saw the group of kobolds running by," Ferran went on. "I followed them, curious as to what they were doing away from the Nether mountains. Not far from where we sit, they were ambushed by a troop of gnolls. There was a lot of growling back and forth, and then the gnolls attacked. Most of the kobolds were slaughtered or captured, but a few of them escaped into the tomb that lies just north of here."

Aurora stood up at once. "Then we need to follow them."

"I would not suggest it," Ferran said gravely. "The tomb is ancient, and the dead within do not rest quietly."

"We don't have a choice," she answered grimly. "Do you know anything else about the tomb?"

Ferran looked at each one of them in turn, then shook his head. "It is not a tale to be shared with those who are not of elven blood." His eyes, though alert as ever, became shadowed. "Enter the tomb if you must, but do so with respect." His gaze lingered pointedly on Szaren. "If you disturb their rest or seek their riches, be prepared for swift retribution."

"Do you imply that a Red Wizard of Thay would stoop to petty thievery?" Szaren asked archly.

"I _implied_ nothing," Farren said with building heat. "Allow me to say it outright."

"Enough!" Xanos shouted. "You are slinging insults like a pair of infants!"

Two smoldering gazes met his own.

"Er . . . Very powerful and capable infants to be sure . . ." Xanos amended. "Nonetheless, we have important business to attend to. After we are done in the tomb, you can kill each other all you like."

Szaren's hands, poised to begin an incantation, fell slowly to his sides. "So be it," he said, and turned his back upon the elven archer. "Who knows? Perhaps we'll run into one another again one day."

"I look forward to it," Ferran said darkly.

Xanos and Aurora quickly followed Szaren.

"I don't think this is a good idea," Aurora whispered, drawing near.

Xanos patted her thin shoulder and grinned. "Do not worry, scarecrow girl. Xanos will protect you from any ghouls or ghosts."

"I wasn't talking about the tomb!" she snapped. "I meant the Thayvian."

"What trouble can he cause amongst dust and moldy skeletons?" Xanos asked. "With Szaren's help, we will retrieve the artifacts more quickly."

Aurora's lips parted as though she would say more, but a moment later her jaw clicked shut.

It was just as well, for a just that moment Szaren called their attention to what lay before them.

There, amidst gravestones jutting from the earth like broken teeth, was the entrance to the tomb.

* * *

Author's Note: Er... Remember when I mentioned non-canon events? But I assure you, there's more reason for Szaren's role in this story than his Thayvian sex appeal. (Oops, did I just type that out loud?) 


	12. Lifestyles of the Undead and Restless

Quick note: Welcome to the new year, everyone! I'd like to congratulate Penname wa Silver Bon finishing Dependence I: Heartsinger. It's a fantabulous fic, and the sequel is shaping up to be just as great!

* * *

Chapter 6: Lifestyles of the Undead and Restless

Whatever had been buried in this crypt, it was too ancient to have any lingering foul odors. All the same, Aurora imagined that she could smell the stomach-turning sweetness of decay among the lighter scents of mold and damp. Daylight streamed in through the open entrance but gave way to shadow no more than a yard into the tomb. Something scuttled across the stones beyond.

"After you," Szaren said, bowing with the cordiality of a gentleman caller as he gestured to the tomb.

"Yes, ladies first," Xanos agreed.

_And they say chivalry is dead_, Aurora thought as she stepped into the tomb.

She allowed her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, flattening herself against the wall near the entrance and listening carefully. The scuttling sound persisted: nails on stone, most likely a few rats scavenging a meal. Further off, there was another noise, one which became clearer the longer she concentrated.

Aurora suppressed a shudder. Whoever was chanting and whispering deep within the tomb, she had no desire to make their acquaintance.

She edged her way forward, stepping carefully so that her boots made no sound. Off to the right was a door, faintly illuminated by the phosphorescent lichen growing upon it. She angled toward it, keeping one hand on the wall as a guide

The door was of heavy stone barred with iron. It had a single keyhole, but the locking mechanism proved too complex to pick. Doubtful that the kobolds could have managed it if she could not, she continued along the wall.

She had gone no more than a few feet when her hand, until now touching only rough stone, encountered something warm and furry. With an enraged squeak, the fuzzy lump flew at her face.

Startled, Aurora reeled back from the bat, and the slap of her boots against the floor echoed loudly throughout the chamber. She froze, once again listening carefully. This time, it was an absence of sound that disturbed her. The scuttling had ceased.

She turned slowly, drawing her sword. She had been mostly correct in guessing at the source of the noise: there were five or six rats close enough to see, all staring at her. She had not, however, guessed that each rat would be the size of a small dog.

The first rat scampered toward her, and she launched it into the air with her boot. The rest attacked en masse, forcing Aurora to perform a strange sort of hopping dance as she avoided their snapping teeth. The plump, furry little bodies made vile squishing sounds when she skewered them, often sticking upon her sword until she shook them off. The fight was more vile than challenging, for while the rats were quite large, they were no more intelligent or coordinated than average rodents. One by one, she killed each of them, finishing off the last rat just as Szaren and Xanos ran up to her.

The Red Wizard spoke the words of a spell, and the chamber flooded with light. She narrowed her eyes against the sudden glare, but was still aware of Szaren's smirk.

"Well done, young Aurora," he said. "If my shop ever becomes infested with vermin, it is good to know there will be a capable exterminator within walking distance. Tell me, does your blade rend the flesh of kobolds as skillfully as that of rats?"

She wiped the blade clean of gore on the fur of one of the rats and glared up at him. "Rats, kobolds . . . wizards."

"No doubt, if you keep it as sharp as your tongue." Chuckling, he strode to the center of the room to examine a broken pillar covered in ancient writing.

Aurora stared after the wizard, feeling a deep chill that had nothing to do with the winter air. The questions that had arisen in her mind the moment Szaren had appeared continued to gnaw at her. He clearly knew something of her story, but how much? Had he been sent to find her? Aurora had served her purpose as the instrument of her father's humiliation. She had never considered that the Thayvians might have further designs upon her.

"This place . . ." Xanos said behind her. "It has a feeling of life about it . . . and of death."

Aurora turned to him. His expression was serious, his eyes distant, and she wondered if he could hear the ghostly voices as well.

"Getting nervous?" she asked, putting away the subject of Thay for the time being. "If you're scared, you can always wait here."

"Bah! Xanos fears nothing!" He looked at Szaren while he spoke, and Aurora realized that he did not want to lose face in front of the other man. "Yet . . . this tomb is older than I had realized," he said more quietly. "Who knows what lurks in the darkness within?"

"The kobolds know," she reminded him. "They might not have gotten very far, though. They're probably more scared than we are."

"Scared?" His laugh echoed throughout the room. "What did Xanos just say? It is for _your_ sake only that I worry, little girl."

"How sweet. I assume you're shivering on my behalf as well?"

"Hmph." He hid his hands beneath his cloak.

They were interrupted by Szaren calling them over and gesturing at the pillar.

"It seems we've stumbled across the final resting place of the warriors of Ascalhorn," he said.

The name was familiar. Aurora tried to place where she had heard it before, but the memory wouldn't come. Xanos had no such trouble.

"A city of fools." The half-orc shook his head. "Xanos would never allow his power to be his own undoing."

"You've heard of Ascalhorn?" There was a note of surprise in Szaren's voice. "You read a lot when you were a child, I'm guessing."

"Constantly," Xanos agreed. "Hmm . . . Xanos was under the impression that Ascalhorn was obliterated. I wonder who was left to build this monument?"

"No one with any sense of proper poetry." Szaren curled his lip at the ancient pillar. "Consider yourselves lucky you're unable to read this tripe. Noble traitors, pride before the fall . . . all the usual propoganda."

At Szaren's words, the memory Aurora had been searching for rose to the forefront of her mind.

It had been at one of her father's rare dinner engagements, rarer still in that he had actually allowed her to attend. Swathed in brocade and pearls, she had perched stiffly on the edge of her chair throughout the night, striving to give her father no reason to banish her to her room upstairs. A bard had been hired to entertain the guests, and Aurora found listening to his songs a less daunting prospect than engaging a friend of her father's in conversation. The bard, knowing well his audience of knights and paladins, sang songs of virtue imperiled and evil vanquished, including one called 'The Shattered Jewel of Earlan.'

A ballad of Ascalhorn.

Szaren noticed her preoccupation. For the second time, someone speaking nearby roused her from her thoughts. "You can stare at that pillar for as long as you like, my dear thief, but I doubt the words will become any clearer."

Aurora felt a surge of hatred for the wizard. Whether Szaren intended it or not, it was his presence that was bringing back memories of a past she preferred to forget. "Let's go," she said tightly.

The corridor opposite the locked door appeared to contain nothing more than a statue, leaving the door in the center of the wall as the only untried option. Szaren's light spell winked out of existence just as Aurora reached out to open the door, plunging the room into darkness once more.

As it turned out, that didn't matter. The tunnel beyond the door was lit with an eerie radiance, the source of which Aurora could not determine. At the end of the corridor was a set of stairs, leading downward.

"Wait here," she whispered to Xanos and Szaren. "I'll see if there's anything waiting for us down there."

It was rather difficult to find decent places to hide in the unnatural light. Just as before, Aurora stayed close to the wall and concentrated on keeping her footsteps as light as air. As Drogan had taught her, she imagined herself as a shadow among shadows.

At the foot of the stairs, a long corridor extended farther than she could see. There was a door up ahead and to her left, but the dust at its base was undisturbed. At various points along the tunnel, boxes and other debris had been dragged together to form barriers. Behind them, Aurora could hear kobolds snarling and yipping back and forth.

She crept back to her companions, relieved that the only enemies she had seen were of the flesh and blood variety.

"Well?" Xanos asked impatiently when she appeared.

"There's an ambush waiting for us," she told them. "No more than a handful of kobolds, from what I could tell. They've set themselves up behind piles of debris in the hall."

"Perhaps we should limit ourselves to attacking from afar in case there are more than the few you saw." Szaren cracked his fingers, seemingly pleased by the prospect of conflict.

Xanos unhooked his crossbow from his pack and began winding back the string. "Xanos is happy that at least one person here besides himself understands the value of attack strategies."

Ignoring him, Aurora searched through her pack for her set of throwing daggers. She was not overly fond of missile weapons, preferring the solidity of a sword in her hand, but she was not about to rush the kobolds by herself.

Aurora had not practiced with the daggers since the loss of her fingers, and she was rather at a loss as to how she could hold the extras in her mangled hand. She settled for carefully sliding the weapons between her belt and her trousers.

Xanos smirked at her display of awkwardness. "Be careful not to slice through your belt, Aurora. Xanos does not wish to be subjected to the sight of your bony posterior."

Rolling her eyes, Aurora set the first dagger in her hand and went to the stairs. The others followed close behind, and on the count of three they ran out into the tunnel.

The noise drew the attention of the kobolds immediately.

"Is gnoll! Kill it!" A kobold popped up over the barrier and fired a bolt their way.

"Not gnoll," another corrected the first. "Kill it anyway!"

Xanos gave them an answering shot from his crossbow. Aurora aimed for one and let the dagger fly, but the little beast ducked out of the way just in time.

By now, the kobolds hiding behind the second barrier were getting into the fight. One of their bolts whizzed past Aurora's head, ruining her aim and wasting a second dagger.

Szaren caught both of the lizards behind the first barrier with a well-timed spell, sending a blinding spray of colored light into their eyes. Xanos took out one of the blinded kobolds with a pair of bolts. Aurora pulled a third dagger from her belt, but it was oddly positioned in her hand and clanged harmlessly against the wall above the head of the kobold she had been aiming for.

A cloud of magic missiles shot forth from Szaren's fingers, swarming about two more of the kobolds and killing them. Xanos finished off the final creature just as another of Aurora's daggers flew wild and buried itself in one of the boxes.

"That was pitiful!" Xanos exclaimed, lowering his crossbow.

"What are they teaching you at that school of yours?" Szaren asked drily.

Until now, Aurora had been unaware of just how badly her injury would affect her skills. She found it difficult to keep her frustration in check. "Just how well would either of _you_ manage with half a hand?" she snapped.

As she pushed past them to collect her daggers, a flicker of movement caught her eye. Crouched behind the second barrier was another kobold, hidden until now. There was a pouch in its hand, and it was rearing back to throw it at them.

Aurora swiftly pulled the last dagger from her belt and flung it at the creature. This time her aim was true, and the dagger plunged into the kobold's throat. Without even a gurgle to mark its demise, the lizard fell backwards, dropping the strange pouch in the process.

There was the sound of a tiny explosion, and then a wave of sparkling dust raced toward her.

Before she managed three steps, it enveloped her.

Squeezing her eyes shut and striving not to inhale, Aurora ran blindly back the way they had come. Partway there, a hand closed on her arm and pulled her to the side. A door closed behind her, and immediately the choking pressure of the dust disappeared.

"Keep your eyes shut," Xanos said. Holding her face still, he blew the dust from her eyelashes.

"Thanks," Aurora said, opening her eyes cautiously. There was only a slight blurriness to her vision. "What was that stuff?" The only answer was a snicker, so she looked down at herself.

Her clothes and armor now shimmered with thousands of bright silver sparkles. A quick check revealed that her hair and skin had suffered the same fate. "Oh," she said glumly. "Glitterdust."

"Ha! Cheer up, scarecrow girl." Xanos clapped her on the back. "Your aim stinks, but you'd make a wonderful target."

Aurora ducked away from his hand. "Xanos, it's amazing how you always know just what to say to make me feel better."

He nodded, baring his tusks in a wide grin. "I try."

Looking at all that glitter was giving her a headache, so she turned her attention to her surroundings. The room contained a sarcophagus and little else. "Where are we?"

"We are in the tomb of Nilmaldor, Knight Gallant of Ascalhorn," Szaren replied.

Aurora was somewhat taken aback. "I wasn't expecting an answer that specific. Um, how do you know?"

All three jumped when a melancholy voice sounded in their minds. "I suspect he read the sign."

"Who said that?" Xanos drew his dagger.

In the center of the room, a whirl of fog took the shape of an elven man in ornate armor. "I did, of course."

"And who might you be, spirit?" Szaren's fingers were poised to cast.

There was a sound like a ghostly tongue being clacked in exasperation. "Is everyone alive nowadays this dense? Try to keep up with me, mortals." The spirit crossed its arms and regarded them with hollow eyes. "I am Nilmaldor, and you are trespassing in my tomb."

Aurora's heart jumped to her throat. "We were just leaving," she said quickly, taking a step towards the door.

"Wait," the spirit commanded, and she stopped short. The apparition floated near. _"_My . . . Humans have certainly acquired a strange sense of fashion over the years. Or was their taste always so vulgar?" Nilmaldor's form became diffuse at the edges while he pondered. With a shake of his head, he regained his former crispness. "In any case, why have you come here? Did you entertain hopes of looting the resting places of Ascalhorn's most loyal traitors?"

She shook her head firmly. "We came here in pursuit of a group of kobolds. They stole something of ours."

"Ah. Well, in that case, I may not need to rain fiery death upon the lot of you. Damn, I was rather looking forward to the exercise." Noticing their expressions, the ghost once again shook his head. "Never mind that last bit, would you? Er . . . What was I saying?"

Szaren seemed amused. "This sprit appears to have gone senile."

"Hold your tongue, mage. You are in the presence of a powerful spirit!" Nilmaldor began to glow with a pulsing aura. "The nerve! I've known earthworms with better manners."

Xanos chuckled. "Quite intimately, Xanos is sure."

Nilmaldor whirled on Xanos, his aura darkening. "Tread carefully, halfbreed. I have tolerated your presence in this sacred place thus far, but that could quickly change." The spirit became more transparent. "I can hardly stand the stink of him! And considering how long I've stayed here with only corpses for company, that's saying something." Another head-shake. "Now, where was I?"

"The kobolds?" Aurora suggested.

"Ah, yes, thank you." The dark aura flickered and subsided. "I approve of your efforts to rid this place of those profane creatures. In fact, I'll help you get rid of them . . . if you perform a small favor for me."

"What kind of favor?" Xanos asked dubiously.

"Allow me to explain." Nilmaldor floated across the room and took a seat atop his sarcophagus before continuing. "That's it, Nilmy, give the anticipation a chance to really build." The ghost cleared his throat, a gesture Aurora guessed was born of habit rather than necessity. "Some time ago a powerful wraith invaded these tombs. I conquered it, but my power was severely weakened by the battle. Now, I am unable to travel any farther than this room. Recently, a giant spiders have overtaken the next crypt over. Since I am unable to travel there and kill the pests, I'd like you three to do it for me."

"Giant . . . spiders?" Xanos sounded highly distressed.

"Indeed, giant spiders. What, now he's stupid _and_ hard of hearing?"

Aurora considered the offer. "If you can't leave this room, how will you help us with the kobolds?"

Nilmaldor straightened his shoulders proudly. "Though I am confined to this single room, my knowledge of the rest of the tomb is unmatched. If you perform this single task on my behalf, I will share with you a valuable piece of information. And if that isn't good enough, your highness, feel free to– " The flow of words cut off, replaced in Aurora's mind with an astoundingly graphic image.

Her eyes flew wide. "I . . . I don't think that's even physically possible."

"Oh, it is," Szaren assured her. "With years of practice and a certain innate limberness, at least."

Nilmaldor's aura flared, now a vivid shade of pink. "I don't have the slightest idea what either of you are talking about," he said stiffly. "But please, restore honor to this place and prove to an ancient spirit that there are still forces of good alive in the world."

"Right," Aurora said, still reeling from the lurid imagery. "Uh, will do."

"No, we most certainly will _not_ do." Xanos shook his head emphatically. "Giant poisonous creatures are the last thing Xanos needs."

"You'd think his shade of green would clash horribly with a yellow belly," Nilmaldor mused.

The half-orc bristled. "What? You dare accuse Xanos Messarmos of cowardice?"

"It's just a couple of spiders," Aurora reasoned, anxious to leave Nilmaldor and his wandering thoughts behind.

"Oh, very well!" Xanos scowled. "Let's get this over with as quickly as possible."

Aurora didn't need to be told twice. In moments, the three of them were back out in the hallway, which was now mercifully dust-free. She collected her fallen daggers as they walked, stopping before the heavy door of the next crypt.

This crypt was larger than Nilmaldor's, and not as well lit. Several of its walls consisted entirely of rows of coffins, now spun over with spidersilk, and the dusky corners were thick with webs. At the far end of the crypt, perched on legs like great curving scythes, was a pair of spiders.

"Ugh, just look at them," Xanos whispered. "Foul creatures."

As if that was their signal, the spiders burst into movement. They scuttled with terrifying swiftness, overtaking the trio in seconds.

Aurora leapt to one side as Szaren stepped back into the safety of the doorway. Xanos lashed out at the arachnids in a disgust-fueled rage, scarcely avoiding being bitten but dealing out significant damage with each blow. Taking advantage of the distraction, Aurora dropped to her knees and swung her sword up with great force. The blade skittered disconcertingly across the spider's chitinous exoskeleton before biting deeply and laying open the creature's abdomen. With an alien screech, the spider dropped to the floor.

The second spider tried to retreat further into the crypt, but Aurora and Xanos followed close behind. Their combined assault was no match for the arachnid, and in moments it lay still in a pool of viscous green liquid.

Pleased by the easy victory, Aurora nodded to the half-orc. "You see? That wasn't so. . ."

With a muffled thump, another spider lowered itself to the floor in front of them on a thread of silk. Before she could react, there were three identical thumps just behind her. Aurora tried to dodge to the side, but a pair of spiders dropped down and blocked her. From the dark corners of the crypt, four more spiders emerged, climbing down the walls to join their fellows.

In a matter of seconds, Drogan's students were completely hemmed in. As one, the spiders inched forward, waving their forelegs and chittering back and forth. Aurora was soon back to back with Xanos.

"It's just a couple of spiders," the half-orc mocked in a high pitched voice.

Surrounded by hairy bodies and dozens upon dozens of staring eyes, Aurora was unable to answer. She gripped her sword tightly, trying to keep an eye on every spider at once as she tensed for the first attack.

Inexorably and with fathomless patience, the spiders advanced.

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Author's Note: My apologies for giving in to my demons and ending the chapter right here.

Thanks, everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Please let me know whether or not this one lives up to your standards. :)


	13. A Helping Hand

Author's note: Thanks a bunch, everyone who reviewed the last chapter! Whoo! I'm almost at 50 reviews now! (Don't laugh, Penname wa Silver B. ;) ) Also, welcome to the story, Master of Words. Please, come in and stay awhile.

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Chapter 7: A Helping Hand 

Xanos had survived many things: his mother's hatred, resentful siblings, frozen wastelands – even an angry, torch-waving mob. Had he come so far only to have his glorious life snuffed out by a bunch of overgrown creepy-crawlies?

_Not likely_, he thought, running his fingers across the ring that adorned his left hand. In seconds, Mystra's Hand would transport him to the safety of Drogan's home, far away from any loathsome poisonous creatures. If such a tactic did not occur to the scarecrow girl, it was her own fault for insisting on this foolhardy errand.

Xanos wished her luck with the poison.

Before he had finished gloating, his attention was drawn by a string of chanted arcane syllables. The moisture lifted from his skin and throat, gathering into a pale mist above him.

"Watch your heads," Szaren cautioned from the doorway, and then everything seemed to happen at once.

The spiders surged forward, engulfing the adventurers. Two of them slammed into Xanos' chest, hurling him backwards to the floor. A third darted in to bite his arm, but its mandibles clicked shut on air as something heavy crashed into it from above.

All around him, huge chunks of ice whistled through the air. Screeches echoed throughout the chamber as the hailstones found their marks, but the spiders were not the only ones at risk. Xanos rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a blow that could have cracked his skull.

Another chunk of ice shattered painfully against his chest as he scrambled to a crouch. By ducking beneath a protruding shelf of stone, Xanos was able to dodge the rest of the incoming projectiles. At last, the air returned to normal and everything grew still.

Xanos straightened and took a look around. The ice seemed to have killed almost every spider, and those that were still moving were only twitching in death throes. The room was awash in greenish brown goop. Aside from a few shallow scrapes across his breastbone, Xanos had escaped untouched.

There was only one problem.

"Aurora?" he called, scanning the crypt for a sign of the rogue. He saw nothing but her sword, laying where it had fallen near the center of the room.

Then, in the far corner of the crypt, a glittering hand emerged from behind a stone sarcophagus and waved frantically. "A little help, here?"

Jogging over, Xanos was met with an odd sight. Aurora was on her back in the small space between the wall and the sarcophagus. A spider with three missing legs was bearing down on her, its mandibles mere inches from her face. Her sword was gone, but by bending one knee to her chest she had been able to plant her boot firmly against the creature's abdomen and keep it at bay.

"Hurry," she said through gritted teeth. "My leg is getting tired."

Xanos regained his composure and plunged his dagger into the spider just behind its gleaming ring of eyes. It waved its legs and jerked from side to side, trying to dislodge the weapon, but succeeded only in spattering Aurora and Xanos with ichor. Its legs went rigid, then limp.

Curling her lip in distaste, Aurora shoved hard with her foot and flung the dead spider aside.

"How in the nine hells did you end up back there?" Xanos demanded.

"I'm not sure," she said, grabbing the edge of the sarcophagus and pulling herself to her feet. "I was a tad preoccupied with dodging hailstones the size of cantaloupes."

"My, my." Szaren crossed the room to join them, taking mincing steps to avoid messing his shoes with spider remains. "What a pretty mess that was. Imagine what might have happened had you not consented to my offer."

"You could have killed us, Szaren." As always, Aurora's hand played across her empty scabbard when she spoke to the wizard. Xanos doubted was a conscious gesture.

"I suppose I could have." The Red Wizard nodded, conceding the point. "But those spiders most certainly _would_ have, had I not intervened."

Aurora surveyed the carcasses that littered the floor. "Perhaps," she admitted. "I just would have preferred a spell with less chance of smashing me into paste."

"I see." Szaren bowed lavishly. "Though your life is, indeed, still quite intact, I apologize for not having a spell on hand that would target giant spiders exclusively."

"Don't get your leathers in a twist, Aurora," Xanos said. "The wizard's actions saved us from a grisly fate, or at least the waste of a focus crystal. Do you hear Xanos complaining?"

"No, for once. In fact, it seems the two of you are getting along marvelously." She regarded him frostily. "And you might want to think about why that is."

"Perhaps Szaren and I are able to eye to eye because Xanos is not blinded by the glare of his own self-righteousness." Xanos glanced at the wizard, who was following the exchange between the students in a detached sort of way. "Just when did you become the paragon of morality, anyway, Aurora? You are starting to remind me of a certain other vapid blonde."

"If the two of you are really so much alike, perhaps I'd be better off going on alone." She turned her back on him and started for the door, but her first step planted her boot directly atop a slippery mound of spider innards.

She gasped as her feet went out from under her, but Xanos had been paying attention. Stepping forward, he caught her around the waist and shoulders before she hit the ground. He laughed triumphantly. "Does that answer your question, impudent girl? Where would you be without Xanos to compensate for your clumsiness and general lack of worth?"

Aurora's face flared bright pink beneath the silvery sheen of glitterdust. At first Xanos was gratified by her embarrassment, but such wordless mortification seemed out of character for the normally sedate rogue. He stared blankly as her blush deepened to scarlet, gradually noticing certain things he had overlooked before. Such as how the way he had caught her left her leaning backwards in his arms as if he was dipping her on the dance floor. And that his hand had somehow slipped beneath her jerkin, and was now flush against her bare back.

"When the two of you have finished snuggling, there are egg sacs we need to destroy." Szaren's comment broke their paralysis, and Aurora was nearly toppled to the floor again in their mutual haste to disengage.

"We were not snuggling!" Xanos and Aurora exclaimed in twin tones of outrage, once a safe distance had been restored between them.

Faced with the combined heat of their incensed glares, even the Red Wizard quailed. "My mistake," he said soothingly. "But the eggs . . ."

"Right!" Aurora said too quickly. "I'll get rid of the ones over here." The rogue picked up her sword from the floor and busied herself with crushing one of the yellow-white sacs.

Clearing his throat and not making eye contact with anyone in the room, Xanos saw to the destruction of any future spider generations with a few stamps of his boot.

Once this was finished, he headed for the door. "Let us see what that witless ghost has to tell us," he said.

Nilmaldor took physical form when they entered his tomb, somber as ever.

Aurora approached the apparition. "The task is done, for what it's worth."

Nilmaldor nodded, gracing her with a melancholy smile. "I sensed as much. I thank the Seldarine that the world of the living has not gone entirely to the dogs in my absence. Er, what happened to all of your glitter, mortal?"

Xanos had not noticed that the glitter had faded until Nilmaldor mentioned it, and apparently neither had Aurora.

"I don't care, as long as it's gone for good," she said. "I'd have a terrible time trying to conceal myself in the shadows covered in that."

"Oh." The empty pits serving as Nilmaldor's eyes seemed mournful. "That is unfortunate. It was a strange style, to be sure, but one that complemented your form."

Xanos scowled at the spirit. "Are you going to tell us how to take care of the kobolds or not? Xanos grows impatient with your dithering!"

"I was getting there," Nilmaldor said huffily. "The room in which the kobolds have hidden themselves contains the workings of an elaborate trap. In the center of the room lies a pressure sensitive plate. Step upon it, and poisonous gas will waft into the room."

Szaren raised an eyebrow. "And you expect the three of us to . . . what? Hold our breaths?"

"Of course not!" Nilmaldor's exasperated sigh breezed through Xanos' mind. "I may be old and dead, but I'm far from stupid."

Politically, Xanos refrained from comment.

"There's another room beyond the one containing the trap," the ghost continued. "It's hidden, but now that you know it's there you should be able to find it without much trouble. Inside it is a lever and several helmets that will protect you from the effects of the gas. Pull the lever to activate the trap, put on the helmets, and_ then_ step on the pressure plate."

"That . . . That actually seems like it will be quite helpful. Thank you, Nilmaldor." She curtsied neatly, holding out the edges of her cloak in place of a skirt. "May your rest go untroubled from now on."

"How polite you are to a lonely spirit, my dear," Nilmaldor mused. "Pay a visit now and again, won't you?"

"Yes, I'll be sure to do that." Behind her back, Aurora gestured fervently at the door.

The three began to move in that direction as Nilmaldor's mental speech rang out one final time.

"Mmm, have a look at her rear in those leathers . . . It's almost enough to make me wish I were alive again."

Xanos, Szaren, and Aurora all looked down in puzzlement at the thick wool cloak that completely concealed the anatomy to which Nilmaldor was referring. Unless . . .

"But if you can see through _that_ cloth," Xanos began, "can you not see through – "

"Oh yes, I most certainly can," Nilmaldor finished for him. "Nothing in the tomb of Ascalhorn is hidden from my sight. There are perks to this job, you know."

There was horror in Aurora's eyes as she ushered them into the hallway and slammed the door shut behind them.

"Xanos would not mind having that particular ability." He smirked, thinking of the possibilities. Listening to one of Mischa's endless lectures on morality would be a far sight more tolerable.

"If the spirit can truly see anywhere in this tomb, your maidenly virtue is no safer out here," Szaren pointed out.

Aurora quickened her pace. "I'm going to go find that room." Xanos tried to follow her movements, but soon enough she was lost among the shadows.

"There seems to be bad blood between the two of you," Szaren said when she was gone. "Why is that, if I may ask?"

"Because Aurora is a smart-mouthed, ungrateful, sarcastic whelp of a girl," Xanos replied without hesitation.

Szaren chuckled. "An interesting choice of words." He smiled at Xanos as if they were sharing a joke. Xanos did not return the look, and Szaren's expression became thoughtful. "Ah, so she has not told you. I expected as much."

"Has not told me . . ?"

Szaren brushed away his question with one of his own. "So, then, what _do_ you know of Aurora Dawn's life before her arrival at Hilltop?"

Xanos pondered the question. Wracking his mind, he could not think of a single instance that Aurora had mentioned how she had ended up with master Drogan. It had never before occurred to him how little he knew of her, but such mutual secrecy was normal among the old dwarf's students. He knew next to nothing of Mischa or Dorna, either.

"From her behavior earlier, Xanos deduces that she is less than fond of Red Wizards," he said, just to avoid being completely silent.

"That is an understatement." Szaren said, chuckling. "But it is a start. It would be in your best interest to unearth the rest, if you can. Remember, knowledge is the root of all control."

Xanos looked at him askance. "Again you speak of control, wizard. Are you trying to tell me that skinny little Aurora is a danger to the great Xanos?"

Szaren shrugged, smoothing his scarlet robes unconcernedly. A moment later, Aurora stepped out of the shadows and waved them over.

"Why, speak of the devil," Szaren said lightly, and Aurora froze.

"What have you told him?" she asked sharply.

Szaren clucked his tongue. "Sticking your nose into other people's conversations is a sign of poor breeding, my dear. Speaking of which . . ." He turned back to Xanos. "Would you consider yourself a dog person, my friend?"

Aurora's face turned paler by several shades, heightening the fevered gleam in her eyes.

Xanos was equally baffled by Szaren's question and Aurora's reaction. "Yes, yes," he said irritably. "The crow flies at midnight and Elminster carries a crooked staff. Can we stop speaking in code now?"

At his words the color began to return to Aurora's complexion.

"I hope so," she said, glaring at Szaren.

"Good. Now, did you find the room we need?"

As it turned out, she had. On the way, she had also found another armed group of kobolds hiding behind a row of pillars. Getting the less sneaky members of the trio past them proved to be no problem, once Szaren created a pair of lightning bolts and sent them ricocheting about the chamber. By the time the spell expired, there was little more than scorch marks and a lingering whiff of ozone where the lizards had been.

At last, they reached the secret room. It was little more than a closet, really, with a door made out of stone that blended nearly seamlessly into the surrounding wall. As Nilmaldor had described, there was a metal lever protruding from one side of the room, and four stands with oddly constructed helmets on the other.

Xanos picked up one of the helms, only to have it crumble to dust in his fingers. "Hmph. These must have been around even before that spectral nincompoop's corpse had grown cold."

"That's not good," Aurora said glumly, withdrawing her hand from the lever. "There's no point in activating that pressure plate now, assuming it would have worked anyway."

"Then how do we deal with the kobolds?" Xanos wiped the remnants of the ancient helmet on his trousers. "Alone they are weak, but by the dozen they could be dangerous even to one such as Xanos."

"The kobolds are confused, weak, and frightened," Szaren said. "Why not simply persuade them to hand over the artifact you seek?" There was a gleam in the wizard's eyes that made the skin on the back of Xanos's neck prickle, but Aurora slowly nodded.

"It's worth a try," she said. "The kobolds at the Bubbling Cauldron were willing to bargain, once they were desperate enough."

"You're joking, aren't you?" Xanos watched, incredulously, as Szaren and Aurora walked to the door of the chamber in which the kobolds had barricaded themselves. "Of course not," he muttered, falling in step behind them.

Aurora gave the door three sharp raps.

"Yip. Who be you?" The voice was high-pitched and scratchy, reminding Xanos of an old woman that had smoked a pipe for decades. "You be gnoll? You comes to kill us? We barricades door, so you not gets in! Yip yip!"

"No, I'm not a gnoll," Aurora said, raising her voice to be heard through the door. "I've come to speak with your leader, not kill you."

"Hmmm. . . You not sounds like gnoll. . . but how me knows me can trusts you, yip? There be lots things down here that tries to kills us! Maybe . . . maybe you be skeleton!"

Xanos stifled a chuckle. "Xanos has had similar thoughts."

Aurora stomped on his foot. "I'm not a skeleton, either. I'm the only person who can help you escape this tomb alive."

Xanos thought that her delivery was melodramatic, but it seemed to have the desired effect on the kobold.

"Me unlocks door and you steps away," the lizard said. "You come and speaks to Urko at back of room. But you puts weapons away! If you pulls weapons, you dies!"

"Deal." Aurora stood back from the door as it opened. The kobold blinked up at them, dwarfed by the doorway.

"Um . . . There be three of you? That be too many weapons to keeps track of, yip! You puts your hands on back of head or not comes in at all, grr!"

Aurora and Szaren laced their fingers together behind their heads. Rolling his eyes, Xanos followed suit.

The room was full to the brim with kobolds. Walking into the midst of them with his hands raised and his weapons out of reach made Xanos more than a little nervous, but the three made it to the back of the room without incident.

"Here, boss," said the kobold who had let them inside. "Here be one that says she helps us escape, yip!"

Another kobold, who Xanos guessed was Urko, looked Aurora up and down.

"Yip, yip, grrr! Who be you, skinny human? How you helps us get out of tomb?"

"Yes, how?" Xanos echoed under his breath. The whole situation was ridiculous. What ever happened to having an actual plan?

"I am Spellafina, mistress of the arcane arts," Aurora answered, deadpan. "And I offer the protection that my unfathomable magical abilities can provide."

Xanos' jaw went slack. There was a choking sound from Szaren that could have been born of laughter or horror.

"Why you does that? Urko knows humans not helps kobolds for nothing, yip!"

Aurora thought for a long moment, during which Xanos could feel every solitary drop of sweat beading on the back of his neck.

"I require something through which to focus my magic," she said at last. "Some sort of powerful relic, perhaps. In return, all I ask is to be allowed to keep whatever object I used."

"Wait . . . How you knows we gots relic, yip?"

That question visibly threw Aurora for a loop. Amazingly, it was Szaren who came to the relic.

"Do not question the ways of Spellafina," he said. "What she knows, she simply . . . knows." As he spoke, the wizard slowly loosened his fingers enough to make a small gesture, and for a moment Aurora was bathed in rose-colored light. She gasped, but the sound was hidden amongst the scramblings of frightened kobolds.

"Okays, we gives the relic," Urko cried. "No hurts us, scary glowy woman!" He thrust a cloth-wrapped something in her direction. Xanos watched as she unwrapped it, not knowing what to expect.

It was a hand. A dried up, bony, human hand, severed at the wrist. Aurora picked it up gingerly and dangled it as far away from herself as possible, as if it were a dead spider.

"Now you helps us like you promised, grr yip!"

"Of course," she said, bowing her head. Straightening, she waved the mummified hand through the air in a figure eight. "Eenie, meenie, minie, mo, ride a cock horse to Banburry Cross . . ."

If his hands were not behind his head, Xanos would have buried his face in his palms.

Aurora pirouetted, shaking the hand at each corner of the room. "Oh, great hand of, uh . . . Wrinkles von Mummystein . . . grant to these good kobolds your finest protection!" She gave the hand a final, decisive shake at Urko.

With a dry creak, the fingers of the dead hand unfurled, pointing directly at the kobold chief.

"Runs away!" came the familiar cry, and every last kobold fled the room.

"Spellafina?" Xanos sputtered. "Where was your head, fool?"

"We have the artifact, don't we?" Aurora smiled at him. "You can put your hands down now, you know."

Grumbling, Xanos dropped his arms to his sides. "That means we are a quarter of the way to reaching our goal. Forgive Xanos for not breaking out the champagne just yet." He turned away from the rogue. "Still, that trick with the hand was a nice touch, Szaren."

Szaren shook his head. "That was not of my doing."

"Well, it certainly wasn't little miss 'mistress of the arcane'," Xanos said, disconcerted. The girl had barely managed to master the workings of the Hand of Mystra, let alone anything more complicated.

Szaren took a step toward Aurora. "Allow me to have a look, if you would. With the amount of experience I have in the magical item trade, there's a good chance I'll recognize it."

Aurora looked doubtfully to Xanos.

"Go on," he urged. "If Szaren wanted to steal the artifact, he would have already set off a fireball in your face and done so."

"Quite right," the Red Wizard agreed. Reluctantly, Aurora let him take the relic. Szaren studied it closely, turning it this way and that. At last he nodded and handed it back.

"I have read of this artifact in several scholarly texts," Szaren said. "I am quite sure it is the hand of Belpheron the Lech."

Xanos peered quizzically at the wizard. "Eh . . . Don't you mean lich?"

"Perhaps it was a misspelling." Szaren lifted one shoulder in a noncommittal shrug. "What were you thinking about when the hand moved, Aurora?"

She smiled faintly. "How much I wished we were out of this tomb and searching for the other artifacts."

"It was reacting to her thoughts?" Xanos guessed, catching on.

Szaren grinned. "Let's find out."

At his direction, Aurora picked up the hand and set it atop her own. "Where is the closest artifact?" she asked the empty air.

The hand twitched, curling against her palm, then pointed in the direction it had previously indicated. Aurora grimaced. "That is remarkably unpleasant."

"Be respectful," Szaren admonished. "Such remnants of the dead can hold great power."

The fingers of the mummified hand flexed slowly, pressing the tips of the black nails into Aurora's flesh.

"What is it doing now?" she asked in a small voice. The hand shuddered, and with a sudden lurch launched itself through the air towards Aurora. She stared down in mute horror as it landed squarely on her chest, and gave the flesh there an experimental squeeze.

Years of combat training forgotten, Aurora danced about the cavern, screaming and batting ineffectually at the hand. "Get it off! Get it OFF!"

Xanos shook off his amazement and sprung to the rescue. It was difficult, but eventually he caught hold of the hand and gave it a mighty tug. It released Aurora with a dry snap of ancient tendons.

The fingers, apparently no worse for wear, curled into a thumb's up, and then the relic returned to its former dormancy.

"There, you see?" Szaren crossed his arms smugly. "It wasn't a misspelling after all."


	14. A Giant Surprise

Author's Note: I'm not sure why, but the first part of this chapter was a pain and a half to write. After about half a dozen false starts, I decided to keep it simple and have a bit of fun with the Xanos/Mischa dynamic. Remember, boys and girls: love stinks.

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Chapter 8- A Giant Suprise

Since their deal with Szaren required the students to return to Hilltop and speak to Haniah, Xanos and Aurora decided to spend the night at the school. Sleeping in his warm, familiar bed was much nicer than making camp out in the snow would have been, and Xanos awoke quite refreshed.

When he reached the foot of the stairs, Aurora was standing in front of the fire, shaking the snow from her boots.

"Good morning," she said, and then, "Haniah agreed to let Szaren stay."

Xanos joined her by the fire, savoring its warmth while he could. "Good. Xanos was doubtful that the she-demon would listen to reason. How did you do it?"

"I convinced her that the enclave would be good for Hilltop's economy. Between looking after the townspeople and trying to sober up the mayor, she was too busy to argue much." She eyed him critically. "You have the . . . thing?"

From the poorly disguised loathing in her tone, Xanos knew she was talking of Belpheron's hand. Ayala had been highly pleased with the news of the first artifact's recovery, moreso with its ability to point the way to the other three. Over Aurora's protests, the Harper had insisted they take the hand along with them when they leave.

"I do," he said, patting the slight bulge in his pack where the hand lay, wrapped in a length of cloth. "You were right to trust such a powerful artifact to Xanos' keeping, you know."

His words gave her pause. Xanos could see that her mistrust of his intentions was warring with her revulsion for the artifact. "Maybe I should hold onto it aft er all," she said uncertainly.

"Oh yes," Xanos said with forced mildness. He removed the hand and unwrapped it, holding it out to Aurora. "Surely _he_ would prefer it, after all."

The desiccated fingers dipped and raised in a slow wave. Aurora gasped and hurriedly crossed her arms across her chest. "Just keep the cursed thing away from me!"

Grinning, Xanos advanced on her, holding the hand in front of him. "Are you absolutely certain?" he asked. "Hasty decisions are hastily regretted, after all." The artifact twitched in his hand, the fingers making grasping motions in the air.

Aurora dropped low into a defensive stance. "One more step and I'll break your fingers," she said fiercely. "All fifteen of them."

The door to the kitchen swung open, and the acrid scent emanating from within made Xanos' nostril's burn. "Tyr's bleeding stump, what is that foul stench?" He pulled his cloak across his nose to protect it from the malodorous onslaught. " Did someone set the compost heap on fire?"

Mischa waltzed out of the kitchen, oblivious to the reek that surrounded her. There was a lidded container in her hands, around which she was tying a flowered handkerchief. When she saw her fellow students, her fingers tangled in the knot. "Oh my," she said. "Are you two fighting again?"

There was disappointment in her wide blue eyes. There was a churning in Xanos's stomach, one that could be only partly attributed to the terrible stench of whatever she was holding.

"Come now," he said, "do not be ridiculous! What would Aurora and I have to fight about?" Breathing through his mouth, Xanos let go of his nose and placed his arm around Aurora's shoulders. She went rigid, and he sensed that she was fighting the urge to twist away.

"I hope for Drogan's sake that you aren't joking," Mischa went on in a softer voice. "Your quest is more important than some childish rivalry."

Somewhat sheepishly, Xanos let his arm drop back to his side. His attempts to fool Mischa were only making it worse.

"What Xanos told you is quite correct," Aurora said evenly. "I was merely showing him the proper way to invoke the power of the artifact."

Xanos could not conceal his surprise at Aurora's boldfaced lie. Mischa might be young and foolish, but she was still Drogan's student and capable of recognizing a fighting stance when she saw one. Still, she seemed reluctant to outright contradict the older girl's words.

"Go on, then, Xanos," the rogue prompted. "We're wasting daylight."

Nodding briskly, Xanos held forth the hand and concentrated on a single questions: where was the nearest artifact? The hand creaked, extending an ancient pointer finger east and slightly north.

Mischa's apprehension turned to fascination as she witnessed the workings of the artifact. She leaned forward for a better look, and Xanos could not help but notice that this made certain parts of her anatomy strain against certain articles of clothing. His breath caught in his throat, his eyes bulged in their sockets, and it was only when Aurora elbowed him roughly in the side that he realized Belperhon's hand was twitching in Mischa's direction. Before it could escape from his grasp, Xanos quickly muffled it in its cloth and returned it to his pack.

"I think it was pointing at the foothills," Aurora said, "which means we have a bit of hiking ahead of us. Let's be on our way."

"Wait!" Mischa raised the container she was holding and removed the lid. The stench increased tenfold, making Xanos' eyes sting. For the first time, he noticed that there were scorch marks on her apron, alongside a viscous green substance. "I made lunch for the two of you."

"You shouldn't have," Aurora said, shying away from the package and wrinkling her nose.

"Oh, it was no trouble," Mischa answered demurely, gazing up at them from beneath a lush fringe of blonde lashes. Before he could stop himself, Xanos had taken the offered container and handkerchief. Mischa beamed at him, and he felt the heat creep up his throat and across his cheeks.

Therefore, he was relieved when Aurora bid a swift farewell to Mischa and made a break for the cool, wintry air out of doors. Once they had put a decent amount of distance between themselves and the house, Aurora rounded on him.

Xanos was staring down into the container Mischa had given him, disturbed equally by the mucus-like black liquid and the shapeless hunks of matter that floated in it.

"Hells below, I've picked more appetizing things out of the corners of my eyes." Aurora's words were not without reverence. "You _are_ going to throw it away, aren't you?"

Without answering, Xanos replaced the lid and tied the handkerchief securely in place. Somehow, he could not find the heart to get rid of it. With the bundle muffled inside his pack, the smell was hardly noticeable, anyway.

"What do you think you're doing? That stuff has to be poisonous."

"What does it matter to you?" he snapped.

For a moment, Aurora seemed as though she would push his patience further. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the mettlesome gleam in her eyes faded.

"Mischa is right, you know," she said quietly. "We have to start getting along if we're going to have half a chance at succeeding."

Xanos snorted. "We have never been friends, you and I. Do you now propose we link arms and skip off gaily into the snow?"

"Why don't we do away with the outright hostility, at least?" she asked. "We don't have to like each other, and there certainly doesn't need to be any skipping, but we can make the attempt to be civil."

He mulled this over as they passed through Hilltop and reached the wilds beyond. True, much about Aurora simply rubbed him the wrong way, but was his exasperation with her worth jeopardizing the entire quest?

"Oh, very well," he said. "From now on, Xanos shall make an effort to play nice. I will continue to loathe you privately, of course."

"Of course." Her wide mouth curved into a smile. Xanos watched her surreptitiously as they walked, taking note of the sharp features, the pale, upturned eyes that were so difficult to read. Not for the first time, he wondered at her parentage.

"You agreed with Mischa," he said, "yet you lied to her. Why?"

"Correct or not, I don't think it was her place to rebuke us that way." She spoke slowly, almost reluctantly. "I liked Mischa better before she took paladinhood so seriously."

The tentative way she parted with the information pricked Xanos' curiosity. He thought again of the warning Szaren had given him in the tomb of Ascalhorn, and of the cryptic exchange with Aurora that had followed.

"So, you dislike paladins as well as Red Wizards?" He kept his tone as neutral as possible. "Despite my hawklike powers of observation, that is something Xanos would not have guessed about you."

She chuckled. "A single item in a very long list, I suspect."

"Fine, then," he said. "Enlighten me. How did you come to be Drogan's pupil?"

Aurora scanned the jagged line of the foothills in the distance. They were glazed pure white by the snow that had fallen during the night. "It's really not that interesting of a story."

"Whenever someone says that, it means the opposite is true. So, what is the big secret? Did you set your house on fire? Seduce a local magistrate?"

"Sorry, no seduction. I was barely out of childhood by the time I met master Drogan." Xanos' eyes lit up, but Aurora noticed and cut him off. "No fire, either. Listen, I'm willing to share, but only if you return the favor."

"Fine, fine. Out with it." Curiosity was gnawing at him, and telling his own tale in exchange was not so high a price to have it satisfied.

"My father and I were never on the best of terms," Aurora began. Her voice was tinged with uncertainty, and Xanos could tell she had little experience speaking of her past. "I was far too much like my mother for his liking, and then there was a prophecy – " she visibly caught herself, and shook her head. "Never mind that. Suffice it to say that we did not get along."

Her words picked up a steady rhythm as they traveled, pausing now and then to consult Belpheron's hand. She painted her childhood in broad strokes, but Xanos gleaned that she had not lived the life of a peasant. The relationship between Aurora and her father had eventually reached some sort of breaking point, the nature of which she did not describe, and she had decided to risk a life on the streets rather than spend another night beneath her father's roof.

Some time later, she had fallen in with a loosely organized band of cutpurses and thugs. She was young, but she was quicker and stronger than she looked, and she knew her way among the shadows from years of keeping out of her father's sight. She gained enough renown to take minor roles in the heists they pulled, including a plan to rob a certain well-known dwarven adventurer who was traveling through the city.

The plan had failed, of course, and Aurora had been caught red-handed by Drogan himself as her compatriots fled. But instead of turning her over to the guards as she had expected, the dwarf offered to help her hone her skills.

"And here I am," she said with a shrug. The story was not what Xanos had expected – he had always assumed that she was merely the superfluous daughter of some local farmer– but she had said nothing to explain Szaren's warnings.

They took a break from speaking to negotiate a bit of tricky climbing. The rough path they followed zigged and zagged, sometimes disappearing altogether at the foot of a boulder. They took the sharp turns and climbs as quickly as they dared, though the snow made good footing tricky to find.

Eventually, the path evened out, and Aurora gave Xanos a nudge.

"Your turn," she said.

"Very well. Remember my words, Aurora. You will want to repeat them to your children, some day." He cleared his throat, thinking back to the tiny village with its rickety, slipshod houses. Built in the wake of the orc raid that had resulted in Xanos' birth, the buildings were hastily built and unattractive.

"The village where Xanos grew up was full of nothing but ignorant bigots, my own family included," he said. "They resented me for my superior intelligence and mixed blood, and feared me for my physical prowess. You can guess how thrilled they were when I became an adolescent and my sorcery began to manifest."

Her gaze was curious and not unsympathetic. "Why? What sort of things happened?"

"Shaking furniture, uncanny light and noises." He smirked. "For a time, my mother was convinced our house was haunted. Unfortunately, Xanos had not reached his present level of control." For a moment, Thisden Nightmark's cruelly handsome face flashed before his mind's eye. "There was a group of cowheaded youths that found their fun in bothering me as often as possible. Their ringleader was a particular thorn in my side. One day, he pushed Xanos too far."

His tone was dark, and Aurora's brow furrowed with concern.

"You didn't _kill_ him, did you?"

Xanos smiled grimly. "No, more's the pity. A rogue ball of flames did burn away his entire luxurious head of hair, however."

Aurora chuckled. "Good. I hate bullies. I suppose he gave you a wide berth after that?"

"Guess again. By midnight, he had raised a pitchfork-waving mob to drive me out of town. I barely escaped with my life."

"Oh." Aurora chewed her lip thoughtfully. "I know the story from there, I think. Funny how much a child can be hated because of who their parents were, isn't it?"

Something in her tone told Xanos she wasn't just referring to him. Again, he scrutinized her features. Her ears were no more pointed than a human's, but there was her thin frame, and her aloof personality . . .

"You say your father hated you because you were too much like your mother," he said. "Was she an elf of some sort?"

"More like a soul-sucking she-wolf."

Xanos laughed heartily. "Something we have in common, then."

Aurora grinned, and Xanos was struck by the oddity of sharing a joke with the girl instead of making one at her expense. It was actually rather enjoyable. Perhaps there was something to be said for civility after all . . .

All at once, a terrible roaring din rose around them. It sounded like the death-scream of a moose mixed with the screech of hundreds of fingernails scraping across a wall of slate. Then, Xanos realized that the horrific noise was actually comprised of words, howled in the common tongue.

"Rumgut be so happy with wife who can cook.! Me not really care at all how she look! She may be small, but me no have fit: when she be cooking it no smell like . . ."

"Who would be singing way out here?" Aurora shouted over the noise, drowning out the last word of the couplet.

"Ha! If that is singing, Xanos is the Lady Mage of Waterdeep!"

"Whatever it is, it's coming from in there." She pointed ahead, where a large shelf of rock overhung the dark mouth of a cave. "Right along the path we need to take."

"Then we find another way around, and do not end up in the gullet of whatever nightmare creature could produce such a racket." Xanos surveyed the jagged bluffs before them. Their surfaces were slick with ice and unusually uniform, offering few handholds. Other than the steep path they had been following, there was nowhere to go but straight up the sheer face of a cliff.

"There isn't another way." Aurora's voice was grim. "We're going to have to sneak past."

"No," Xanos said immediately. "'Xanos' and 'sneaking' should never be used in the same sentence."

She inclined her head. "But you just – "

"Details!" he snapped. "Xanos is not accustomed to slinking about in silence the way you do. I am not tip-toeing past that thing's lair. No way, no how."

Moments later, Xanos was tip-toeing through the snow. Aurora was just ahead, her movements self-assured and completely soundless. He assumed they were, at least; with the abysmal singing continuing to blare from the cave, it was impossible to tell.

"This is a bad idea," he hissed. "It's going to get us killed!"

"Hush," she said over her shoulder. "Think stealthy thoughts."

Xanos did as she bid him, imagining being wrapped in a black cloak and wearing boots muffled with fleece, stealing across a lightless room with floors made entirely of sea sponges. In fact, he concentrated rather too hard on his imaginary scene, and failed to notice a sizeable stone protruding from the powdery snow.

His toe caught the tip of the stone, and his arms wheeled in the air for a terrified instant before he tumbled headlong into a drift. His pack catapulted over his head, landing at the very mouth of the cave.

Xanos froze, listening for a sign that he had been heard. The song continued on as though nothing had happened, and Xanos felt his heart start beating again. Then, all at once, there was silence, followed by a great snuffling sound.

"Get up!" Aurora whispered urgently.

Xanos struggled to his feet, but a massive, uneven shape filled the mouth of the cave before he'd fully regained his balance. A pair of huge, watery eyes peered into his own.

"Hey, what you doin' here?" The hill giant's voice held no real menace, but Xanos cringed nonetheless. "And what you got that smells so good?"

Xanos' eyes darted to his overturned pack. Only now did he notice the pungent odor wafting from it, where Mischa's lunch must have lost its lid in the fall. The stench was so strong it was almost visible in the frosted air.

He pointed a shaking finger at the pack. "Take it, if that's what you mean," he said.

The giant smiled, his crooked mouth splitting his face like a crack in a boulder. "That be nice of you, tiny man. It smell almost as good as stew me wifey cooks." He hooked the strap of the pack around a single finger. "Come into me cave, nice tiny man. Rumgut not take stew for nothing."

Rumgut's head swung heavily on his neck, and he blinked at Aurora, who had been standing motionless at the far side of the cave. "Your friend come too," he announced.

Worldlessly, Xanos and Aurora followed Rumgut into the cave.

Xanos' eyes had no trouble piercing the gloom within, but from Aurora could no doubt see nothing but the single brightly lit item in the lair: a cast-iron pot the size of a bathtub, bubbling away over a roiling fire. In a way, she was lucky. Xanos could have done without the sight of the skinless corpses of half a dozen kobolds that littered the floor.

Aurora leaned close to whisper in his ear. "Is that a _stewpot_?"

"Obviously," he snapped. "And big enough to hold you and Xanos both, if we don't think of something quickly."

Rumgut took a seat on a handy boulder, and swallowed back Mischa's stew in one gulp. When he was finished, he belched loudly enough to shake the cave walls, then dabbed daintily at the corners of his mouth with the tiny handkerchief.

The giant yawned. "Ah," he said happily. "Nothing make Rumgut sleepy like tasty meal, 'cept maybe a good drink."

Xanos felt someone staring at him and looked to his right. There, built into one wall of the cave was a makeshift cage. A dwarven girl sat within, peering desperately at him from between the bars. "Help," she mouthed.

Xanos knew what he had to do.

"Giant," he called boldly. "If you already have a nice, tasty dwarf to eat, surely you will not have room for Aurora and I."

"What?" came an outraged cry from the cage.

"Dwarf?" Rumgut scratched his bald, lumpy pate. "Oh . . . You mean wifey? Why would me eat her?"

"There's someone else trapped here?" Again, Aurora's whisper reached his ears. "Xanos, we can't just leave them."

"Wait, wait . . ." Xanos waved her away, still trying to process what the giant had said. "Your wife is a dwarf?"

Rumgut smiled proudly. "She be small now, but soon she be big, like Rumgut. Then we knock heads together and throw rocks and make little giants, just like mom and dad."

Xanos couldn't stifle his laughter. "So, dwarves grow into hill giants, do they? I wonder if anyone told Dorna."

The smile vanished, and Rumgut leaned forward on his boulder. "You laughing at Rumgut, tiny man?"

"No, no, of course he isn't," Aurora cried. "He's just, uh, thinking of a joke I told him right before you came outside."

"Oh, okay." The giant sat back on his haunches. "Me loves a good joke, skinny bigmouth woman. You tell Rumgut, now."

"Uh . . . sure." She swallowed audibly. "A one-eyed tiefling, a wolverine, and a Tormite priest walk into a bar– "

"Tiefa-huh-wha?" Rumgut interrupted. "What be that? It be good for eating?"

"No, no. A tiefling is the offspring of a– "

"Spring be when the pretty flowers grow." Rumgut's chest swelled with pride at this display of knowledge. "Then me go and pick bunches for wifey, so she be happy and not try to run when Rumgut opens cage."

Aurora's shoulders slumped. "Let's just forget about the joke, shall we?"

Slapping his knees, Rumgut burst into booming laughter. "Good joke, good joke! Me remember that one for sure!"

Aurora raked her hand through her hair in an irritated motion.

"Xanos, work on finding a way to release that dwarf. I think I know a way to keep this idiot busy."

Before Xanos could question her, she had turned back to the laughing giant. "So, Rumgut. You like a good drink, do you?"

The giant bobbed his head twice in the affirmative. "Rumgut love rum!"

Aurora put her hand to her chest in exaggerated surprise."Why, what a coincidence. Rum is my favorite, too."

"Oooh, you drink lots? Think you can drink more than Rumgut? Me like contests almost as much as me like rum!"

_No_, Xanos wanted to shout. _Not that!_ Surely Aurora was not that stupid. Surely she did not think she could outdrink a giant. . .

Aurora's teeth gleamed in the firelight as she bared them in a wide grin.

"I'd like nothing better."

* * *

A.N.² Hoo, boy. Sadhow Xanos isoften the _more_ sensible one of the pair. I'd like to thank my friend for suggesting this chapter'stitle- it continues the abysmal pun trend of the last few. Oh yes, and I have to confess thatI think Rumgut is completely adorable.


	15. Over the Limit

Chapter 9 - Over the Limit

* * *

"I can speak thieves' cant, you know."

"Yes, Aurora, Xanos knows. I also knew the first thirty times you told me." Xanos sat with his face in his hands, listening to Rumgut snore outside the cage. The drinking contest had not lasted nearly long enough for Xanos to locate or steal any keys. Halfway through the fourth flask of rum, Aurora had crumpled to the floor in a senseless, giggling heap. Rumgut had fallen asleep soon after, but had the presence of mind to lock Xanos and the drunken thief in the cage alongside the dwarf.

"You think you know everything, don't you," Aurora slurred, punching him weakly in the shoulder. "Well, here's something I bet you didn't know: I can speak thieves' cant."

Xanos growled, shoving her away as he got to his feet and paced the length of the cage.

"Ah, Moradin," the dwarven girl despaired. "I prayed fer Ye to send adventurers to me rescue, an' tha's what Ye did. Did it have to be ones wi' only half a brain in their heads, though, I ask Ye?"

"Hush, now, it'll be okay," Aurora said, patting the dwarf on the head. "I know thieves' cant, you see."

"By the hammer, ye mooncalf, wha's that got to do wi' gettin' us out o' this mess?" The dwarf's chest heaved beneath her dirty blouse. "If I hear but one more word about blasted thieves or their blasted cant, I'm wringin' this 'un's neck wi' me bear hands! Ye hear me, half-orc?"

"Xanos would have to be deaf not to," he mumbled. "Now be quiet. Xanos is trying to think."

The dwarf placed her chubby fists on her hips. "Aye, ye do that, green one. Try hard enough, and mayhap yer skull'll grow hot enough to melt these twice-blighted bars."

Xanos turned his back on her. If he had his way, the Hand of Mystra would have teleported himself and Aurora to safety long ago. But no, Rumgut had fallen asleep with one gnarled hand cupped over Xanos' pack. Even though Rumgut was as dumb as a sack of rocks, Xanos could not in good conscience leave the Hand of Belpheron in a hill giant's keeping.

"Squeak, squeak," Aurora said. "Squeak, squeak, squeak."

"Yer friend needs her hinges oiled," the dwarven lass muttered.

Aurora was on her hands and knees, her chin to the ground, peering intently at something amidst a number of rocks that had fallen in some long ago cave-in. Xanos caught a glimpse of brown fur and a pink, worm-like tail before the rat squeaked and disappeared behind a small boulder. Aurora craned her neck and regarded Xanos with a bleary-eyed look of astonishment.

"The rat," she said. "It left."

"Good riddance. The last thing Xanos needs is for you to come down with the foaming sickness."

"You're full of it," she said with a lopsided grin. "Good thing I'm here to come up with a plan."

Putting both hands against the wall for balance, Aurora managed to stand. She undid the knot at her throat and let her cloak pool at her feet, then scrabbled clumsily at the buckles that held her cuirass in place. "Xanos," she said, "help me out of all this, will you?"

Xanos gingerly backed away from her. "Eh . . . Xanos does not see how getting naked constitutes a plan."

Aurora's brow furrowed deeply in thought. Then she shrugged."Neither do I," she said. "Now help me take off my armor."

Xanos gaped at her wordlessly until the dwarf elbowed him aside."Back away, oaf, ye look like someone's slipped a snail down the back o' yer longjohns." In moments, she had helped Aurora strip off her boots and armor. "Plan or no, at least the lass'll fit more easily into the pot this way," she said.

"Squeak squeak," Aurora said, tucking the hem of her undershirt into her trousers. Then, with astounding flexibility, she wriggled between the boulder and the cave wall.

Now that he really looked, Xanos could see the dim passage dug into the wall. It was hardly wide enough for Aurora's shoulders, let alone Xanos' wide frame. He waited impatiently as she inched along on her stomach, certain that the tunnel would merely dead end or become too small for her to go any further.

Soon enough, though, even the tips of her socks had disappeared into the tunnel, and a short time later she stumbled back in through the mouth of the cave. Xanos held his breath as she pawed through the rubbish piled about the cave, exhaling in relief only when she had located the key to the cage.

Xanos extricated his pack from the grip of the sleeping giant as the dwarf gathered up Aurora's discarded armor, and then the three of them made haste to leave Rumgut's cave.

"Oh, ye darlin' daft child," the dwarf said when they reached the sunlight. "Ye were me rescuer after all!"

Aurora, sitting in the snow now that there was no wall to provide support, shivered and grinned. "That was pretty good, wasn't it? But you know what's better? I know thieves' cant."

"You certainly do, dear," the dwarf said indulgently, then bobbed a curtsy. "Me name's Becka Hurst, daughter of Nathan. We have a large farm an hour or so east along the path. Come by as soon as you're able, pa'll likely have something to give you for rescuing me from that lummox." Becka nodded to Xanos. "Sorry to leave you alone with your friend, here, but I really must be returnin' to me pa."

She set off into the snow without another backward glance.

Behind Xanos, Aurora was attempting to stand. She made it as far as a low crouch before gravity got the better of her and spilled her into the snow. Again she tried, and this time she did manage to actually get to her feet before her teetering steps brought her a hair too close to the cliff's edge and Xanos had to catch hold of her arm.

"So, you cannot walk," Xanos said, pulling the giggling rogue away from the embankment. "Perfect." Sighing, he lowered himself to one knee. When that prompted no reaction, he grabbed her hands and placed them on his shoulders. Eventually, Aurora got the point and climbed onto his back.

"Here," he said, handing Aurora her cloak. "You don't want to lose any fingers or toes. Well, any more of them, at least."

She wrapped the cloak around herself and managed to hang on as he picked up both of their knapsacks and shoved her armor inside. Feeling like a pack animal, Xanos looped his arms beneath her knees and began the long walk to the Hurst farmstead.

While carrying Aurora this way eliminated the problem of her inability to walk, it created certain other irritations: namely, her drunken, giggly chatter was now taking place approximately three inches from his ear.

"I'm getting a piggyback ride." She raised one arm from his shoulder to poke his forehead with her index finger. "Guess that makes you the piggy."

"The less you speak, the less likely Xanos is to toss you off the nearest cliff," he grumbled.

The threat was enough to keep Aurora silent for about five seconds. Then she settled her pointy chin into his shoulder and started talking again.

"Where'd those bracers come from? You hardly ever take them off."

"They were my father's," Xanos answered shortly.

"He gave them to you?"

"No. He died on the pikestaffs of the town guard shortly after siring me on my mother."

"Oh. How'd you end up with them, then?"

"My mother meant to sell them someday. I stole them before she had the chance." Xanos turned his wrist, bringing into view the spot where he had carved his name into the metal. For some reason he could not explain, the sight of the neat Common script amongst the crude orcish runes had always made him feel proud.

"It doesn't bother you to keep them, knowing what your father did?" Aurora's words were still slurred, but the cold air seemed to help her think more clearly than before.

"No, it doesn't." He sighed in irritation. "I suppose you're going to tell me how very wrong that is."

"It is strange." He couldn't see her shrug, but he could feel it."If my father had kept anything belonging to my mother, though, I might've done the same thing."

Aurora's admonition held the careless air of someone talking in their sleep. Xanos wondered if she would remember anything she said come morning.

"Xanos has shared one of his secrets with you," he said carefully. "It is only fair that you return the favor. For instance, you mentioned some sort of prophecy."

Her fingers bunched the fabric of his shirt. "Promise not to tell anyone?"

Xanos nodded briskly. "I swear on my mother's grave."

The girl must have been very drunk indeed, because she took his meaningless pledge at face value.

"Well, okay then," she said. Even though there was nothing but snow and rocks stretching out as far as the eye could see in every direction, she cupped her fingers around her mouth and whispered close to his ear. "My father's great-aunt was a seeress. He took me to see her when I was eight. She grabbed my hands and held onto them for a long time, and all of the sudden she started moaning and shrieking. Then she got really quiet, and she smiled and looked right at me even though she was blind." She shuddered.

"What did she say?" he urged.

Her whisper was so quiet, Xanos could hardly make out the words. "She said that if I cared about someone, they'd die."

"That's not a prophecy," he objected. "People die. That's a fact of existence."

"No." Aurora shook her head so fiercely that Xanos nearly lost his grip and dropped her. "They'll die, and it will be all my fault. She could see the blood on my hands. She said she saw a city in flames, and rows and rows of corpses, all pointing at me."

It may have been nothing more than Aurora's breath tickling his skin, but for some reason the hair on Xanos' neck stood on end. Her breathing had grown rapid as she recounted the tale. Clearly, the memory upset her.

"A vivid image, certainly," Xanos said with forced offhandedness. "It sounds like something out of one of Mischa's lurid adventure novels. Xanos would not be surprised if this so-called seeress had memorized a scene in its entirety."

"You . . . don't think it was true?"

Xanos tried to imagine the shy, nondescript girl cackling amidst roaring flames and bloody bodies and nearly burst out laughing.

"Why, is it on your to-do list? One: rescue kitten from tree. Two: help old lady cross road. Three: rain fiery death upon the masses."

Aurora chuckled halfheartedly. "I guess it does sound stupid." She turned her head and rested her cheek on his shoulder, and after a time her slow, even breathing let him know she had fallen asleep.

Xanos trudged onward through the snow, keeping the setting sun at his back. Aurora was light for her size, but carrying her weight together with that of their packs was no small feat. By the time the Hurst farm came into view, his shoulders ached and his arms had nearly gone numb.

A gruff and scarred old dwarf met him at the gate. Xanos vaguely remembered seeing him at Drogan's house some months ago.

"Me little girl has come back," he said, "and she tells me that I have ye to thank for it." He grimaced and squinted one eye, an expression that Xanos eventually realized was meant to be a welcoming grin.

"She speaks the truth. If not for the timely intervention of Xanos, you would have been stuck with some hideous grandchildren."

"Normally I'd object to such a jest about me own daughter, but under the circumstances I suppose a bit o' gallows humor'll do no harm." He pulled at his beared thoughtfully. "Now wait just a moment – big half-orc, churlish attitude, tendency to speak of himself by name . . . I remember ye, Xanos! And that poor sotted lass on yer back must be Aurora." He laughed and shook his head. "To think me little girl's rescuers would be students of Drogan's. Go on, set her down inside while I search for somethin' suitable to give ye as a reward."

Xanos was only too glad to do so, depositing Aurora in the first chair he encountered within the farmhouse. Her eyelashes fluttered and she muttered something, but did not wake up. He closed his eyes and stretched his arms, trying to undo the kinks in his muscles.

When his eyes opened, there was a burly farmhand with dirty brown hair glaring at him from across the room.

"What are you doing in here?" he demanded. "I suppose Nathan is looking for another farmhand. Don't go thinking you can just waltz in here and replace me!" Threat delivered, the youth seemed about to go back to his business. Then, his face lit in recognition. "Hey, wait, you look familiar. Aren't you that jerk that started the fight at the Bubbling Cauldron last week?"

"Xanos remembers you," he replied darkly. "You sought to provoke me with weak jabs at my heritage, yes? You would now be wearing your own lower intestine as a hat if your idiot friends had not intervened."

"Well, my friends aren't here now." The farmhand took a step toward him, raising his fists. "Let's see if you can back up your words, greenskin."

"Ha! Honestly, is Xanos supposed to be insulted by that? My own mother did worse. Go milk a cow, fool." He was itching to put the man in his place, but his muscles were too sore and the farmhand too musclebound to make fighting an appealing option. Xanos turned away contemptuously, hoping this bluff would be enough to make the man back down.

"That's it! You're going d– woah!"

Xanos glimpsed a blur of motion out of the corner of his eye as Aurora slammed into the man's chest and bore him to the floor. She slugged the farmhand in the chin, snapping his head to one side. She reared back to punch him again, but he caught hold of her fist with one hand and hit her hard in the mouth with the other.

Simultaneously aghast and amused, Xanos watched the two roll across the floor in a flurry of kicks and punches. Even too drunk to walk, Aurora was a surprisingly competent brawler and managed to hold her own for a good while. Her opponent was far larger than herself, though, and at last the farmhand gained the advantage. Grabbing Aurora by the shoulders, he began banging her head against the wooden floor.

Xanos had just decided to intervene when the door flew open to reveal a very pregnant and very angry dwarf.

"What do ye think ye're doin'?" she thundered. "How dare ye fight with a guest in me own home!"

Stricken, the farmhand released Aurora.

"I swear, Toli, I was just going about my chores when this crazy wench– "

Aurora brought her knee up, hard, and the farmhand rolled off of her with a thin cry. She laughed triumphantly, then groaned, holding her head.

"This blockhead thought to brag to his friends about besting one of Drogan's pupils," Xanos explained. "Xanos was obviously too much for him, so he went for weaker prey."

Toli shook her head in disgust. "I never cared fer the way ye skulked about here anyhow. As soon as ye can walk, boy, pack yer things and be gone from here."

The farmhand managed to gain his feet, though Xanos guessed it would be some time before he could walk upright.

"Oh, I'll get you for this," he snarled, shaking his fist at Aurora. "You just wait. And you, too, half-breed! One day when you least expect it, I'll–"

"Enough, Finn!" Toli shooed him away with her apron. "Speak no more and be on yer way, lest I call Nathan in to finish ye off!"

The farmhand slunk away, glaring daggers all the while.

"I don't feel so great," Aurora moaned from the floor. Her face was getting puffy from the bruises, and her mouth was bleeding. It was nothing she wouldn't recover from, but Xanos still felt a little sorry for her. After all, she had pummeled that obnoxious lout on his behalf.

He nudged her gently with the tip of his boot. "What am I supposed to do with you, scarecrow girl?"

Toli crossed her arms over her ponderous stomach. "Why don't ye both spend the night? Ye deserve a hot meal after what ye've done fer this family. And in the meantime, I can take care o' yer friend, here. The gods know I've nursed Nathan back to health after many a drunken scrap."

"Don't talk about food," Aurora mumbled. "I think my breakfast is going to make an encore appearance."

"Take her out to the barn," Toli commanded. "She can be sick all she likes out there without soilin' me nice clean floor."

Grumbling, Xanos knelt to pick up Aurora again.

* * *

Aurora awoke feeling like a herd of caribou had tap-danced on her skull. Of the hours that had passed since she had issued her challenge to Rumgut, she recalled nothing but a few brief flashes of memory.

She had gotten in some sort of fight– her split lip and bruises testified that she had not been in top form in that escapade– and she had somehow found a way out of Rumgut's lair. She remembered with a flush of embarrassment that she had spent at least part of the time being carried by Xanos.

Most troubling, she had the feeling she had told her fellow student something she shouldn't have. But whatever it was, Xanos made no mention of it as they bade farewell to the Hursts and set off in the direction Belpheron's Hand pointed them. Aurora did her best to put it out of her mind.

Nathan Hurst's reward was an amulet that cast a protective aura about is wearer. Toli had also thrown in a jar of her signature barbeque sauce, which was in no way magical but did smell delicious. Xanos had immediately claimed the amulet, and since Aurora was horrendously hung-over and in no condition to argue, she had taken the barbeque sauce without complaint.

They climbed further into the mountains, where the frigid winds blew and tiny snowflakes clung to Aurora's eyelashes. One hour passed into the next, with little to break up the monotony other than when one or the other of them blundered into a crevasse and had to be pulled free.

When Aurora first saw the kobold floundering toward them through the snow, she thought her mind was playing tricks on her. Then the creature called out to them in a hoarse, warbling voice.

"Wait wait wait," the kobold cried. "Deekin must talk to you!"

"Ah, another treacherous lizard," Xanos said lightly. "Shall we kill it now?"

Aurora put her hand on his wrist to halt any dagger-drawing or spellcasting. "Don't be so hasty."

"Deekin chases after you for ages!" Panting and wheezing, the kobold stumbled nearer. "You gots such long legs, Deekin thinks he never catches up!"

He didn't appear to have any weapons, and he was baring his little sharp teeth at them in a sort of frightened smile. Aurora knelt to regard him at eye level, wary but quite certain the lone kobold posed no threat.

"Why did you follow us?"

"Deekin not follow you," the kobold protested. "Well, okay, maybe he follow you a little, but he only watch to see that you be great hero! Deekin need your help!"

Xanos laughed derisively. "Perhaps we should help you the way you 'helped' master Drogan, yes?"

The kobold shook his head desperately.

"Deekin not hurt anybody! Deekin only go with other kobolds to village because Master tells him to!"

"Hush, Xanos," Aurora said. "You're scaring him. Now– Deekin, was it?" The kobold nodded in eager affirmation. "Now, Deekin, unless you happen to have one of the artifacts with you, Xanos and I are a little too busy to help you right now."

"Deekin does have artifact!" Aurora and Xanos gave him a shocked look, and Deekin swallowed nervously. "Well, not with him. But Deekin takes tower statue and hides it somewhere only he knows. You wants it, you helps Deekin."

"What? How dare you try to blackmail us!" Xanos reached for Deekin's neck.

"No! No hurts Deekin! You squash Deekin, you never find out where he hides tower statue!" He looked like his heart could stop at any moment.

Aurora batted the half-orc's hands away. "Why don't you go make a snow angel or something, Xanos?"

"You are far too indulgent, Aurora." Xanos bared his teeth at the kobold. "Xanos cannot understand why you feel you owe anything more to this vermin than a perforated kidney ."

"Great hero helps because that be what heroes do." Deekin drew himself up to his full height, which was only about half of as tall as Xanos, and stuck out his tongue. "Deekin not need mean half-orc's help anyway."

"You never explained _how_ you want me to help you," Aurora said before Xanos could respond.

"Oh. Well, that be easy." The kobold made an emphatic gesture with his tiny, clawed hands. "Deekin just want to be free."

"Free?" Aurora repeated blankly. "What, are you hiding a pair of shackles beneath all those scales?"

"Deekin is servant to the Master. Deekin sings songs, tells tales that keeps Master happy. That why Master send Deekin on raid: so Deekin write story for Master later. Deekin carries little tower statue when we leaves human village. When gnolls attack, he get excited and he . . . he drops the little statue." Aurora tried to interrupt, but Deekin rushed on breathlessly. "Statue is all broken now because of Deekin. He cannot bring it back to Master, because Master be angry at him! But if Deekin stay away, Master be even angrier!"

"You broke the artifact?" Aurora felt the beginnings of a headache that had nothing to do with yesterday's binge.

"Deekin drops it on rock when gnolls scare him. Was accident! It go crack and there be shiny thing inside. Very pretty. Deekin shows you after you helps him."

"Wonderful," she said, massaging her temples. "And you want me to go talk to this master of yours?"

"If you wants to talk to Master or kills him, Deekin all for it. So long as he not comes after Deekin, that be fine."

"However powerful he is by kobold standards, Xanos cannot imagine that this so-called 'master' could pose much a threat."

Deekin twittered. "Old Master not be kobold. Master is great dragon Tymofarrar, ruler of kobolds!"

Aurora laughed in disbelief. "Hold on just one second," she said. "Let's take stock of the situation, shall we? A dragon has breath could burn me to a crisp before I could so much as open my mouth, not to mention teeth and claws as big as my arm. I have a shortsword and a half-orc with an attitude problem. How am I supposed to convince a dragon to do anything?"

"Deekin gots complete confidence in you. Deekin knows that you is great hero, you is!"

"You wish us to wander into a dragon's lair on the strength of your words alone?" Xanos snorted. "Xanos trusts you about as far as he could throw you, reptile."

Deekin looked up at him uncertainly. "Erm, that be pretty far, Deekin thinks."

"Maybe," Xanos conceded. "Let's find out."

Deekin cringed. "You gots to trust Deekin! Master is one who planned attack on village. You wants rest of artifacts, you have to meets with him anyway."

Aurora turned to Xanos and shrugged helplessly.

"I cannot believe it," he muttered. "We've been outmaneuvered by a kobold."

"Deekin sorry he uses great hero this way, but Deekin has to be free." Deekin grinned sheepishly. "Tymofarrar lives beneath big kobold cave up north in mountains. You goes and finds old Master and do what you going to do. Deekin goes to human village off to east and hides there, okay?"

"Okay," Aurora answered simply. She watched as Deekin slowly went back the way he had come, still attempting to come to terms with the deal she had made.

"I still say it's some sort of trap," Xanos said.

"The directions he gave and the way the hand is pointing are the same." Aurora thought of the toothy grin and the scratchy, desperate voice, and admitted to herself that something about the little kobold had simply made her heart go soft. "I think he was telling the truth," she said.

"Hmph." Xanos gave her a cold glare. "One day you will learn the value of discretion, Aurora. If you're lucky, it will happen _before_ your spinal cord is severed by the sword of someone you thought you could trust."

"Who put bees in your breeches? Relax, Xanos." She did her best to smile and halfway succeeded. "We've been trained well. We'll be fine."

"Of course we will," Xanos muttered dourly. "After all, you know thieves' cant."

Aurora raised a eyebrow. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Shaking his head, Xanos turned away and resumed hiking through the snow.


	16. The Past Catches Up

Xanos Messarmos had not argued with, insulted, brushed off, or otherwise harassed Aurora for almost three hours. Indeed, he had not uttered a single complaint. The company of the half-orc, Aurora had to admit, had recently become quite tolerable.

Of course, his being asleep in the back of a cave probably had a bit to do with that.

The cave was deep enough to provide shelter from the wind and the snow and allow them the comfort of a fire for the night. Aurora was finishing off the second watch, waiting for the first rays of dawn to shine in through the entrance.

According to master Drogan, every minute wasted was an advantage lost. Taking his words to heart, Aurora had taken out her daggers and was passing the time attempting to improve her throwing technique.

It had been truly shocking how far her skills had deteriorated in the time since she had lost her fingers. The skirmish in the crypt had forced her to realize just how silly she had been to spend the months since the injury moping about instead of learning to cope. Aurora felt like someone who only thinks to by a belt once their pants are around their ankles.

She positioned the dagger between the remaining two fingers and thumb of her left hand, grimacing at the ache of missing digits some part of her brain insisted were still there. Before the injury, Aurora had impressed even her master with the speed and accuracy with which she could hurl knives at targets. Now, as she tried to execute the simple maneuver that would transfer the handle from one hand to the other, the dagger tumbled from her hand.

She hissed a curse that would have made Mischa's ears burn and bent to retrieve it. As she straightened, the sound of jangling metal reached her ears. She went to the mouth of the cave, dagger in hand, and squinted at the snow. After a moment she saw the source of the sound: a man on horseback, the metal plates of his armor clinking loudly with each laborious step the animal took.

What was an armored man doing out in the middle of nowhere at this time of night? Aurora frowned, not liking any of the ideas that sprung to mind. She considered waking Xanos, but just then the man rode into a patch of moonlight and Aurora glimpsed the banner lashed to the horse's saddle.

It was as though an iron band tightened around her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs. She looked at the banner a second time, hoping the embroidered eye surrounded by the sun's rays had been a trick of the shadow. The symbol remained, rippling gently in the wind, and Aurora drew back into the cave with her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

With numb efficiency, she emptied her canteen over the small campfire and ground the embers beneath her heel. Any footprints they had left outside should have been covered by several inches of snow by now; the man outside had no way of knowing she was here. With any luck, he would pass right by and–

"Glory be to Helm!" The man's voice was strong but surprisingly young. "We've found a place to spend the night after all, Justice!"

This time, Aurora's whispered curse would have made Mischa's ears bleed. A lantern was lit, and in moments the cave was echoing with heavy footsteps. Aurora avoided the halo of light as she snuck past the man, moving soundlessly though she doubted he could hear much of anything over the noise he was making. Drawing close enough to the man that she could see her breath condense on his armored back, Aurora slowly took the weight of his scabbard into one hand and sawed at his sword belt with the edge of her dagger.

The light of the lantern fell across Xanos' sleeping form, and the man stopped short.

"Of all the caves in all the world," the man exclaimed. "I cannot bloody believe it!" He gave the half-orc a less-than-gentle shove with the point of his armored toe. "Get up, you."

Groaning, Xanos swatted at him. "It's not morning yet, fool," he muttered. "Can't a man have his rest?"

"Certainly." The man set down his lantern and took hold of Xanos' blanket with both hands. "Half-breeds like you, however . . ."

One sharp tug later, Xanos was on his feet and glaring murderously. "There's no chance you're just a particularly ugly figment of Xanos' imagination, is there?"

"Hardly." The man's voice was fairly dripping with distaste. "Luckily, my purpose in coming here has absolutely nothing to do with you. Now, why don't you make this easy and be on your way," he cracked his knuckles loudly, "before I throw you out."

The sword belt gave way. As Aurora had intended, the man remained oblivious to the theft. Xanos noticed the movement, however, and his gaze met hers just long enough to let her know she'd been seen.

"Throw me out?" Xanos chuckled. "You think you're intimidating, don't you?"

"So I've been told," the man said in a voice like ice.

"And Xanos has been told that having a half-orc's boot lodged in a certain orifice can be highly unpleasant. Let's find out."

Predictably, the man went for his sword. His hand closed on empty air just as Aurora's dagger slipped between his plates of armor and pressed against the hollow of his throat.

"Relax." Her lips were almost touching his ear. "It's too early for this foolishness." She tossed his sword to Xanos, who caught it and smirked.

"Strange to be the outnumbered one, yes?" With his tusks bared and his eyes flashing beastlike in the lamplight, Xanos' human heritage was hardly apparent. "You're like a bad rash, Thisden. Irritating, unpleasant to look at, and impossible to get rid of for good."

The man spat at him. "I didn't come back to this frostbitten wasteland to visit _you_, you sanggletoothed oaf."

Aurora flinched in surprise, and the man squirmed as the tip of the dagger broke his skin. "He's been to Hilltop before? Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Xanos snorted. "Between almost being eaten by a giant wolf and finding you bleeding to death on the floor, it never occurred to me. You want Xanos to alert you each time a pompous fool with a bad haircut passes through town?"

"No," she said tightly. "Just the ones riding under my father's banner."

"Your father?" Xanos and the man asked in identical tones of bewilderment.

"This is certainly surprising," the man continued. "You're just the one I was hoping to see, Aurora Morninglight Dawn."

"Morninglight?" Xanos snickered. "No wonder you hate your father."

"Exactly," she said flatly. "He tried to kill me, and now he's sent someone to finish the job. But it was his fondness for redundancy that really pushed me over the edge."

The man cleared his throat. "You think I came all this way to kill you, my lady? Nothing could be further from the truth." Carefully, he craned his neck to look at her. Even this close up and in poor light, Aurora could tell that he was a very handsome man. His nose and chin could have been sculpted from marble, and his upper lip curved as smoothly as the finest bow. His eyes were light, blue or perhaps green, and as they gazed into her own she had the feeling that he could see every embarrassing thought that had just flitted through her head.

"My lady Aurora," he said gently, "please accept my most sincere apology. My sudden arrival must have startled you terribly. But I assure you, I came not at your father's bidding, but at my own." His accent was straight out of one of Mischa's romance novels, but even so his voice made Aurora feel like she'd swallowed a dozen butterflies. Her words tangled on her tongue as she tried to ask every question at once.

"Why are you . . ? I thought . . . why didn't . . ?"

She might have continued on in this articulate manner, had not Xanos jabbed her with the end of the man's scabbard.

"It's called a complete sentence," he said. "Give it a try sometime."

"Do that again and I'll stick that scabbard up your nose," she replied. "Happy now, jackass?"

"Watch your mouth, girl," he grumbled. "You and Thisden are standing quite close together. Xanos is sorely tempted to kill two birds with one ball of magical fire."

"Cur! You dare threaten lady Aurora?" The man once again reached for his sword, realized Xanos was holding it, and settled for shaking his fist. "I shall smite you for your insolence!"

Glares were traded all around. At last Aurora interceded, not without some reluctance.

"No one needs to be smited– uh, smitten. Xanos, sit down and keep your mouth shut." She released the man but kept her dagger at the ready. "And you, whoever you are . . . Either you start explaining or I start cutting things off."

Though visibly ruffled, the man quickly recovered enough to flash her a smile. "As my lady wishes," he said, and bowed. "I am Thisden Nightmark. For several years, I have pursued knighthood under the tutelage of Sir Aurelius Beckingforth Dawn."

Xanos laughed.

"Still a squire, eh? Always a bridesmaid, never a bride."

Thisden stiffened. "Sir Aurelius is quite busy with the duties of Paladinhood. I am proud to serve him faithfully until such a time as he deems my training complete. There's no shame in being a squire."

"Ha! Then why do you look like you've smelled a skunk every time I call you one?"

Thisden frowned deeply at the half-orc. "The only thing I smell is a half-orc in dire need of a bath."

Aurora cleared her throat. "Where is my father now?"

"He departed for Neverwinter not long before the city was quarantined, escorting an important shipment from Waterdeep." Thisden bowed his head. "He never said what the shipment contained, and I have yet to hear anything back from him."

"I hope he enjoys the Wailing Death," Aurora said without inflection.

Xanos shook his head. "You have all the luck. Xanos' mother is hundreds of miles away from any plague, more's the pity."

"Your mother deserved a far better son," Thisden snapped. "And you, my lady . . . You must leave the past behind you where it belongs. The enmity you feel toward your father is a relic of years gone by. You must learn to let go of it."

"Spoken like a true idiot," Xanos said. "The past is a source of strength. It is what drives one onward!"

"So says the half-orc in a dress," Thisden retorted.

"_Robe!_"

"I can only pray you're wearing something underneath– no, for the love of my eyesight, don't _show_ me!"

"All great mages wear robes," Xanos said huffily, letting the hem of his garment fall back to the floor. "We are secure enough in our masculinity to not need trousers."

"Good point," Aurora said, gesturing at her own trousers. "I'm terribly insecure about my masculinity."

Thisden looked at her askance for a long moment, then shook his head. "In any case," he said, "perhaps I ought to start at the beginning." He smoothed his hair and smiled again, but this time Aurora's pulse kept a steady rhythm. "You see, for the first year or so after Sir Aurelius accepted my petition, I was unaware that he had a child. It was only when I stumbled across his study while in search of armor polish and saw a painting of you that I realized the truth."

Aurora knew which painting he meant. She had been so surprised when her father asked her to sit for the portrait, and so pleased. For three weeks she'd sat perfectly still for hours at a time, draped in furs and pearls that her father had never before allowed her to wear. She'd seen the finished portrait exactly once before her father had hidden it away, just long enough to marvel at how happy and fair she'd looked.

Aurora as she was now shared little in common with the painting. She was gaunt and muscled, her hair chopped roughly instead of carefully curled, and her clothes were muddy and rumpled. Heat rose in her cheeks– no doubt Thisden was making the same comparisons.

"I began to question the locals," he continued, "asking anyone who might have an idea of what had happened to you. It became a project of mine, a quest, an . . . obsession, if you would."

"Eh . . . Xanos does not like where this is going."

Thisden didn't spare Xanos a single glance, focusing his attention unwaveringly on Aurora.

"No one seemed to know what had happened to Sir Aurelius' beautiful daughter. There was no record of a funeral in your name, however, and my curiosity increased. At last, I worked up the courage to question Sir Auerlius himself."

Aurora swallowed hard. "What did he tell you?"

"Nothing," Thisden said ruefully. "He turned away without a word and left my curiosity at its peak. I resolved to put the matter out of my mind." He ran his hand through his chestnut locks, which clearly had a closer relationship with a comb than Aurora's had in years. "But Fate had other ideas. On an extended campaign to put good deeds to my name, I happened to pass through a tiny village called Hilltop."

Aurora's brow furrowed. "But I wasn't there that day."

"Unfortunately, no. But during my visit with Drogan, your fellow students brought up your name."

"You spoke with master Drogan?" Aurora's voice seemed distant to her own ears. "He never mentioned it."

"I was merely passing through on unrelated business, as I said. No doubt he didn't want to worry you."

"No doubt," she echoed numbly.

"In any case, I learned as much about you as I could from the townspeople." He took a step closer to her. "They spoke well of you, my lady. Your strength, your purity of heart. I knew then that you were everything I had hoped." Another step, and he was close enough to take her hand in his own. "I told your father what I had learned, and this time he confessed everything to me. The sad tale of your estrangement only strengthened my resolve, and I made plans to return to Hilltop at the first available moment."

Aurora looked down at their clasped hands, then up at Thisden. "Um . . . Your resolve to do what?"

The handsome man dropped to one armored knee and gazed up at her with sparkling eyes. "Sweet lady, I intend to capture your heart as you have captured mine."

She stared down at him, her mouth agape. His hands were warm. Finally, the whirlwind of thoughts that filled her head resolved into a single word: "Huh?"

Xanos let loose a roar of laughter that could have caused an avalanche.

"Xanos has heard more charming proposals from the back end of a goat! Even Aurora isn't desperate enough to fall for lines like that."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she muttered.

"It's utterly ridiculous," Xanos went on. "You've never even met her before today!"

"It doesn't matter," Thisden insisted. "My lady, I've been in love with you since I laid eyes upon your painted smile." He gave Xanos a dismissive wave. "Pay this beastman no mind. He has no idea what he's talking about."

"On the contrary, Xanos knows only too well what kind of man you are." Xanos curled his lip in disgust. "You remember the story I told you about the roughneck who ran me out of town, Aurora?"

Aurora pulled her hand away. "Either way, I don't have time for this," she said firmly. "I'm in the middle of an important mission."

Thisden shook his head. "This is no life for you, my lady, toiling away in the cold. Come back to Waterdeep, where you can be protected like the treasure you are."

That hit a nerve.

"Protected?" She spun the dagger in her good hand so that it caught the light. "That's a funny thing coming from a man who not five minutes ago was one sneeze away from a trip to the fugue plane."

"I don't doubt your skill," Thisden swiftly amended. "I just cannot help but think that this dangerous lifestyle will leave you injured or worse."

Aurora held her left hand in front of his face. The light from the lantern threw the scars there into sharp relief. "Too late."

Thisden's eyes widened. He tried to mask his disgust and was only partially successful. Aurora turned her back on him.

"Leave," she said. "Go back to Hilltop and wait there until I get back. I . . . have a lot to think about."

"My lady . . ."

"The 'lady' has spoken," Xanos announced cheerfully, grabbing Thisden's shoulder and propelling him toward the entrance. "Go on, clod, peddle your wares elsewhere."

"Get your fat, greasy fingers off of me," Thisden hissed, shaking Xanos off. He quickly regained his composure, and bowed low at the mouth of the cave. "I _will_ win you, lady Aurora. That I pledge, by my very honor!"

With that, he strode out into the snow.

A moment later, he strode back in. "I, er, forgot my lantern," he mumbled, then snatched up the offending object and made his second exit.

"Help me get this straight," Aurora said when the sound of hoofbeats had faded. "We just ran into your childhood archenemy in a cave in the middle of nowhere."

"Right," Xanos answered.

"The same man who somehow ended up as my father's squire in Waterdeep."

"Apparently."

"And he wants to marry me."

"So he says." Xanos bent and calmly began to gather his bedroll.

"Well, thanks for clearing that up," she said peevishly.

Xanos paused and looked up at her. "Trying to figure out Thisden Nightmark is a waste of time. He's up to no good, certainly, but he's too stupid to cause any real trouble."

Aurora looked at the floor and toyed with the hilt of her dagger. "So you . . . you don't think he really . . ."

"Fell for you? Ha!" Xanos laughed, going on far longer than Aurora thought necessary. "Not at all."

"And why not?"

"For one thing, your hair looks like squirrels have made a nest in it."

Aurora ran her fingers through her hair and opened her mouth to protest, but Xanos cut her off.

"Not to mention your mouth is too big, and you're shaped like a fencepost. Xanos has seen fuller hips on a halfling."

"That's– "

"A male halfling."

"Okay! I get the point!"

Xanos shrugged and turned back to his bedroll, not quite quickly enough to hide his smirk.

Aurora rolled her eyes. "My inability to fill out a corset aside, Hilltop is an awfully long ride from Waterdeep. He came here for a reason."

"Who cares?" Xanos knocked the dirt from his boots and pulled them on. "With any luck, he'll get frostbite, or fall off a cliff, or get torn apart by wolves, or catch a highly contagious flesh-eating disease, or– " Noticing the look Aurora was giving him, he moved on. "If not, you'll have plenty of time to figure out what he's up to when the artifacts are safely ensconced in Drogan's laboratory."

"I guess you're right." She stared out into the snow, deep in thought.

"Xanos is always right," he answered automatically.

They finished their preparations in silence and left the cave. Thankfully, Belpheron's hand pointed the opposite direction from the trail of hoofprints. Aurora was glad for the wind and the deep snow– the physicality of the hiking kept her mind off everything else. At least, until they ducked behind a convenient boulder to take a break.

"So," Xanos began in a conversational tone, "your father tried to kill you?"

Aurora glared at him. "Gee, Xanos, don't mince words on my account."

"What are you getting huffy about? It's a simple question."

Aurora sighed. "Yes. I think that's what he meant to do, anyway. I ran away instead of waiting around to find out."

"But he is a paladin, yes?"

She nodded tiredly. "Listen, it's a very long story and I– "

"Don't bother. Xanos was simply curious." He took a hearty swig of water from his canteen and grinned. "If I had a gold piece for every time a relative tried to kill me, I'd move someplace warm and tell Drogan to stuff these damned artifacts down his trousers."

Aurora smiled back, surprising herself.

"One more thing," Xanos said. "All of that 'my lady' business earlier . . ."

"You've seen my blood dozens of times," she said, catching on. "Did it look blue to you?"

Xanos looked dubious. "Szaren referred to you the same way," he said.

Aurora considered a moment, then decided that the knowledge could do no harm.

"Technically, my father's a count," she confessed. "But he doesn't own enough land to make it more than a silly title anyway."

"A count?" Xanos gave his mustache a contemplative pull. "Huh. Who would have guessed."

"It doesn't matter now," she said. "I'm out here chasing kobolds through the snow just like you."

Xanos nodded and put his canteen away.

"Well, Countess Aurora Morninglight Dawn, are you ready to get off your bony aristocratic rump and find that dragon?"

"Certainly." Aurora pushed away from the rock and dipped Xanos an overelaborate curtsey. "Just don't call me that again or I'll knock your teeth in with my aristocratic fist."

* * *

Hundreds of yards away, Thisden Nightmark pronounced curse after curse on the head of Xanos Messarmos, reserving a choice few for other parts of the half-orc's body as well. If that greenskinned brute hadn't been there baiting him and keeping him on edge, Thisden was certain he could have won the girl to his way of thinking.

He was so caught up in his litany of hexes that nearly rode over the man who suddenly appeared in front of his horse. With a cry, the man hurled himself out of the way of the hooves, and Thisden reigned the animal back.

"Are you all right down there? What were you doing jumping out in front of my horse that way?"

The man dusted off the snow and dirt and scowled. "I was trying to flag you down, is all. Listen, I just need to know if you've seen a big ugly half-orc and a skinny blonde wench go this way. I'm damn near freezing my stones off wandering around after them!"

Thisden raised an eyebrow. "And just who are you?"

"Name's Finn," the man said fiercely. "And I mean to teach that pair what it means to cross me!"

Thisden quickly assessed the situation. Finn was big and burly– more than a match for a certain halfbreed. If Thisden's first impression proved true, he was also dumb as dirt.

"Well?" Finn tugged impatiently at his reigns, and Thisden resisted the urge to kick the man in the face. "Did you see them or not?"

Thisden grinned. "It looks like this is your lucky day, Finn."

* * *

A.N. Yep, I'm still alive. ;) Also, I still love reviews to pieces. 


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